Prison Break
by PassingShadow
Summary: AU. After two years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, Grimmjow gets out and promises himself to never go back to the world he came from. Trying to create a new life. But there is one man who threatens to drag Grimmjow right back in. Now he's in a race against time to fight his past and make sure tragedy doesn't follow.
1. Midnight Phonecall

**Rating: **M, foul language, mature content.

**Pairings:** AizGrimm

**Disclaimer: **Don't own bleach or any of the characters.

**Summary: **AU After two years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, Grimmjow gets out & he promises himself to never go back to the world he came from, instead creates a new life. But, there is one man who threatens to drag Grimmjows right back in. AizGrimm.

**A/N:**Revised Edition. Please give this a story chance, it's not a waste of time, or at least I hope so. Enjoy (:

**Prison Break**

Alone in his cell room, a blue haired figure was lying on the floor, one leg resting on top of the other, his arms behind his head, the once slightly tanned body was now a paler colour due to its lack of exposure to the sun. Azure eyes starred up at the ceiling, a rare contemplative look on the occupants face. Very rarely did Grimmjow Jeagerjaques have time to himself and it was something he wasn't going to waste, not that he did much in his alone-time. After all, there was never much to do in prison.

Contrary to most people's belief, prison wasn't that bad. Sure once you first get thrown in, it's a shit hole, you get stuck wearing an ugly as hell jumpsuit, then get stuffed in a crappy little room where it's better to sleep on the floor rather than the iron clad frames. You still get three meals a day, if you count baby puke mixed with ketchup as food. Any sane person would go crazy within three days, but then again, sane people don't wind up in prison do they? It's only the fucked up ones.

Not that Grimmjow was fucked up, actually he was, but not enough to end up here...well, maybe not. A few strands of blue hair were out of place from the rest, lying on Grimmjow's forehead, moving with the rhythm of his breath. He yawned, revealing clear white teeth that were too sharp to be natural. Once he heard the approaching sound of footsteps, he took in a breath and rolled over onto his stomach, arms flat on the floor. As the footsteps neared his cell door, he pushed up off the ground with his arms, and then dropped back down. Up. Down. Up. Down. The set of footsteps had now paused right outside his door.

"Boy, give it a rest. You ain't fooling me, ya really expect me to believe ya were doing fuckin' pushups all this time?" Came a voice from the other side.

Grimmjow looked up and grinned, "Some of us still need to stay in shape."

There were two men outside his door, one was tall, broad shouldered, with features showing he was from was a Chinese background. He had a long face with small eyes, his black hair had been tied into a plate and hung over his shoulder, the man was wearing the blue and white uniform of the Head Guard. Next to him, the one who had addressed Grimmjow just moments before made even the Chinese man look short in comparison to his height, he was extremely thin, more lanky than thin and unlike the other man's his jet black hair had been left open, and it was very long. A small piece of white cloth with a thin black border, suggesting it was custom made, was wrapped around his left eye, leaving him to depend on his right eye. He too was wearing an orange jumpsuit identical to Grimmjow's. His eye was focused on the blue haired, a large smile on his face, revealing his top line of teeth.

The taller man once again addressed Grimmjow, "Sayin' something about me? Looks like ya need to be reminded which one of us loses in a fight."

Grimmjow's grin never faltered, in fact it grew, "Careful Nnoitra, that sounds like a challeng-"

"Gentlemen, please do not make me break up a fight that hasn't even started." Interrupted the Chinese man, his words made both the two men stop their banter instantly. He stepped around the one named Nnoitra, pulling out a key. He unlocked the cell door, and moved aside to let him in. Nnoitra quickly stepped inside. Once he had, the guard locked the door before turning and walking back down the corridor from where he had come from.

Grimmjow picked himself off the floor and stood up. He looked at his cell mate who, just like him, was still grinning, both serious about the fight.

The black haired man raised his hands, "Easy Grimmjow, normally I'd love to hand ya ass back to ya, but not tonight." With that he walked up to the bunk beds and eased himself onto the bottom bunk.

Grimmjow frowned, all signs of humour disappeared, "Since when do you say no to a fight?"

"Since I got a very special phone call. Try again tomorrow." With that he turned to his side, ending any form of further conversation.

The blue man raised an eyebrow and just shrugged instead even though the other couldn't see him, he then pulled himself up onto the top bunk. He'd known Nnoitra for 2 years now, and he still couldn't figure the guy out. Mood swings. The guy had been here since before Grimmjow got chucked in, and he never really said why he'd got thrown in, and knowing Nnoitra, it could have been anything. Literally. Not that he minded.

One of the many things Grimmjow had been _thankful_ for during his long stay in this shit hole was the fact he ended up with this weird ass roommate. They did get along a little bit but this guy was crazy as hell, and they spent most of their time annoying the shit out of each other.

The first two months he'd been here, Grimmjow had been fucking piece of work. If someone so much as looked at him the wrong way, he'd try and snap their arm off. Soon enough people got the message and nobody was willing to talk to him, and he didn't mind, it was what he preferred. Then he got a cell change, and ended up with this asshole.

At first he did his best to not respond to the guy, hoping that like all the others, he'd leave Grimmjow alone. He did the opposite, every time he ignored Nnoitra, he'd make that much more of an effort to be all up in his face, smiling and laughing, it was creepy as fuck. Untill of course, Grimmjow introduced his fist to the guy's face. Grimmjow almost snorted, Nnoitra wasn't laughing after that.

That wasn't the end of it, the guy may seem thin and fragile, but _fuck_, could he fight. Almost did Grimmjow in a few times, _almost_. The two of them had ended up fighting so much, that the guards had saved two of the solitary cells for them permanently. After three cracked ribs, couple of torn ligaments, one black eye, a sprained wrist and a week straight in solitary, both of them had learned their lesson and had swallowed their pride and maintained a somewhat pleasant relationship.

The sound of humming echoed through the room, causing the blue haired man to close his eyes and frown, after a few more minutes he deepened his frowned. He tried counting to 10 but the sound got louder and louder, Grimmjow growled, he heard a quiet snicker before it continued again. He knew the other was just doing it to piss him off, but guess what? It was working.

Having had enough he rolled over to the edge of his bed and lowered his head to look at the other man, "Hey canary bird? Shut the fuck up."

"Aww, why ya so harsh Grimmjow? What's wrong with humming a little tune if ya feeling happy." His single eye creased as a smiled stretched across his face.

The blue man frowned, "And why would you be happy? You finally getting out of this dump?"

The others single eye twinkled, "Oh it's much better than that."

"What the _fuck_ is that suppose to mean? The hell did you get so cryptic?" Grimmjow yawned, revealing those sharp canines.

"I just had a very enlightening phone call, that's all."

At that the blue haired man snorted, losing interest he lifted his head back up and put it down on his pillow, but he couldn't help but wonder who could've called Nnoitra, because first off, no one gets a call at the end of the day, it was their curfew now, they were all suppose to be in bed. Visitors or phone calls were only in the morning, and if that wasn't weird enough, Nnoitra had been 'escorted' straight to the head guard's office for the call, and nobody receives a phone call from Shawlong's office, ever. The Chinese man had his rules, and the fact they were being bent for creepy ass here seemed just a little off.

Grimmjow forced the feeling down, he was just being paranoid, but he couldn't help it, not after what he'd been through. He thought back to the time when he had first been put in prison, he remembered feeling terrified and furious at the same time. Terrified because prison meant he'd be trapped and that made him feel vulnerable and furious because after all he'd done, the decisions he'd been forced to make, he'd felt cheated, but days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and after a while not only did he get used to it, he felt safe. He honestly felt safer here in prison than he ever did outside.

The idea of being here surrounded by plenty of walls, guards and other people made him feel less exposed. It all meant it would be harder for _him_ to get to Grimmjow. He had begun to absently scratch his lower abdomen, a habit he had developed over the years. He stretched, flexing his muscles before turning over in his metal bed. Closing his eyelids the blue haired man drifted off to sleep with a sense of security that he was finally beginning to get used to.


	2. Meatball surprise

**A/N:** Revised Edition

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 2<strong>

Grimmjow took in a deep breath of the pasta and meatballs. Today was Tuesday, and that was his day to clean up the cafeteria after breakfast and make sure it was ready for the lunch hour. It wasn't that bad, at least it was better than Fridays where he was stuck with toilet duty. That was just shit. Literally. He moved in between the tables, mop in hand, swiping the floors. Every now and then he'd glance back at the cooks trying to catch a glimpse of the food.

"You know, if you stopped peaking back here every five minutes you might actually finish cleaning this place up." Came a voice from behind the counter.

Grimmjow grinned and spun round, he lifted the mop and pointed at the guy who had just spoken. The man was massive, everything about him was big. If he wanted he could probably squish someone with his bare hands, but Yammy was normally harmless, good for a laugh, that's if you didn't piss him off, then you'd just be signing your own death warrant. "If I finish, will you give me some of the good stuff?" He asked.

The man raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms "Are you saying all my food isn't good. Careful Grimmjow, you might get less today just for that."

"Actually, I think _your_ food is great. It's whoever puts all that fucking ketchup in it. Seriously? What the hell?"

The other man laughed and uncrossed his arms, he lifted one finger and beckoned Grimmjow near him, "Alright blue man, just cus you think my food is great."

The blue haired man dropped the mop and jogged over, he practically jumped over the counter and landed quietly on the kitchen floor. After straightening up, Grimmjow leaned over the pot with the food, and took a quick sniff. "Oh _fuck,_ that smells good."

"Come on, quickly then! I don't have all day" Yammy grunted.

Still grinning, he looked at the other man before dipping his finger into the sauce and plopping it his mouth, after tasting the sauce he licked his lips, "Seriously man, if I ever get out of here, I'm gonna take you with me. Otherwise I'm staying here, gotta love the food."

The bigger man shook his head, "You're crazy you know that? Now get back out there, I can see those ketchup stains from here. Out!" He turned to walk over to the fridge and opened it to take something out.

Grimmjow turned to look at the man, then back at the food. The blue haired man eyes gleamed only for a moment before he stuck his hand into the pot and pulled out a meatball, just as Yammy turned around he quickly shoved it in his mouth and turned to jog back to his forgotten mop. He did a quick sweep of the area before he decided it looked relatively clean, besides it was going to get dirty anyway after lunch, so fuck it. He dumped the mop in the bucket of water, he started to push the equipment to the side of the room for whoever had to clean up next. Just as he was about to leave he heard Yammy call out after him.

"Don't you fucking think I didn't see that Grimmjow!"

Grinning, he left the cafeteria.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lunch had gone by pretty quick, Nnoitra had bitched about his clean up duty, apparently he had been forced to do sick ward clean ups, and those were by far worse than toilet duty. But for lunch they were served meatball surprise, surprise being some extra fucking ketchup. Seriously, he was going to kill whoever added that shit into his food.

Nnoitra and him headed back to the cells, they pretty much had nothing left to do for the evening, except as they neared their door they saw Shawlong waiting for them outside their cell. He looked at Nnoitra with a very guarded face, "You seem to have another phone call. I do hope you inform whoever this person is to not call my direct line Nnoitra, I will only tolerate so much."

The black haired man only smiled in reply, "Aww, am I taking up precious call time to ya girlfriend, eh Shawly?"

The Chinese man narrowed his eyes dangerously, "Do not act conceited. Guard." He called to one standing at the end of the corridor who quickly rushed over, "Take him to my office right now, and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

With that said, the guard bowed and began to lead Grimmjow's roommate to Shawlong's office. Once he had left, Grimmjow had expected Shawlong to leave, but to his surprise, the man was still standing there in front of his cell.

"Are ya gonna move? Or do I also have a super important phone call?" He asked the Chinese man.

Shawlong just looked at Grimmjow, "Not a phone call, but you do have a visitor. So, please follow me." With that he turned around and kept walking.

Grimmjow followed behind the head guard, he frowned, a visitor? Who the fuck wanted to visit him? Sure, Grimmjow did get a few visits from old buddies of his. But those were always once in a while to check up on how he was doing and most of them had already visited last week. Could it be _him_? The thought made Grimmjow's blood run cold, he shook his head and clenched his jaw. There was no way that man would ever want to see Grimmjow, not after what he did, if he did, it was to see Grimmjow dead. But what could he do here? Like fuck he could get to Grimmjow, not with all these guards around, but somehow those thoughts weren't very comforting.

Once they reached the visitor hall, looking through the glass door, all of Grimmjows fear flew right out the window, he saw an orange haired man on the table waiting patiently for him. Shawlong swiped his card over the reader next to the glass door, it clicked once and the door opened. Once he had stepped inside the room, Shawlong just said, "I'll be back in 20 minutes, no more than that." And left him alone. Grimmjow walked towards his friend and sat down on the bench opposite him. Ichigo smiled when he saw him, he had a small bandage under his left eye, probably from a fresh wound but that wasn't anything new.

Grimmjow had met Ichigo in college but strangely enough, the two of them hadn't shared a single class together. They did however, join the same kick boxing club, Grimmjow had joined it because he was always looking for a good fight, but Ichigo joined it because he got picked on a lot cus of his hair, which of course made Grimmjow laugh, he was sure one to talk about fucking hair colour. They got paired up in the first team try outs, their match lasted for 30 minutes before the coach finally decided to call it a draw. Since that day the two of them became friends, they would hang out after class, or go out on weekends, though their groups of friends could not have been more different, and that made a big difference.

After college, Ichigo got a job as a police intern, he had the brains and the stamina to work in the field, within a few months he was being recognised. He got bumped up to work directly with the police chief, life for his friend had turned out pretty well. Unlike Grimmjow, he started working in an auto shop, fixing up cars at a low wage. His boss seemed like a shady guy, but he was the only one willing to give him a chance, everyone else thought he wasn't 'work material', whatever the fuck that meant. Turned out the guy owed money, and couldn't cough it up. His boss had told him to come in on a Saturday for extra hours, course it turned out the collectors just so happened to show up for their money. Guess who got the short end of that stick? Not Grimmjow, he handed that guys' ass to him for trying to push him around.

Though, in hindsight, not the smartest move, not when he could go back and report to the boss. Grimmjow quit his job after that. That only meant he was living on his own, but with no money, it was hard, he was struggling. The collector had somehow managed to track Grimmjow down, and showed up saying his boss was offering Grimmjow a job, he had said no. He thought that would have been the end of it but the guy would show up again, and again. Of course when things had gotten real bad and he had been so close to being kicked out of his shitty apartment cus he couldn't pay the rent, the offer didn't seem that bad.

Grimmjow had told the guy he'd try it out for a few weeks, to make sure it wasn't anything dodgy, and the job had turned out to be pretty easy, he only had to do a few drop off deals here and there and the pay was really good. But the blue haired man soon learned that was just used to rope someone in, then after a time he was told to do other things, things that are wrong, and he couldn't leave, because he knew too much, the only way he could leave was ending up at the bottom of some river.

Grimmjow had tried to leave, he fucking tried, but _he_ wouldn't let him. When things got real bad, he finally went to Ichigo for help, he didn't tell him everything, just bits and bobs here and there, enough to get official help but not enough to get noticed. Ichigo by that time had gained quite a role in the police department, he talked it over with his chief, who was more than willing to cut out a deal with Grimmjow, info for safety. But they had been fucking liars. After they got the info from him, the police chucked him in this shit hole. Apparently they had evidence of him doing a shady deal, something he had never done. Ichigo had felt so bad, but Grimmjow didn't blame his friend, after all, there was no way that Ichigo would've known.

The blue hair man grinned, "So who whopped your ass this time?" he pushed his chin outwards pointing to the others face.

The other scowled, an expression he usually wore, "Screw you man, it was 5 against one. Not fair."

"Aww, poor baby." Grimmjow nearly frowned, he was starting to talk like Nnoitra, shit, he needed to stay away from that guy, but he did enjoy the scowl deepen on his friends face.

"Glad to see you're feeling good today. How's it going anyway?"

Grimmjow shrugged, "It's okay, though you should really ban them from buying any ketchup, you'd probably save lives."

An eyebrow was raised, "Seriously? You still don't like ketchup just cus of the time Renji threw up all over you during that figh-"

"Shut up"Came a huffed grunt.

The orange haired friend chuckled, but he quickly sobered up, "How are you doing though? Things okay in here?"

This was nothing new, Ichigo had always blamed himself for Grimmjow's misfortune, and no matter how many times he would tell him it wasn't his fault, the orange haired man just wouldn't listen to him, Grimmjow shook his head, "Things are fine. Did you know Shawlong brought in a three new flat screen TV's for the recreational room? Those things are sweet." He gave his friend his trademark grin.

His friend just nodded and smiled, he copied Grimmjow's grin, "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

"I can lie when it counts." His friend stiffened at his reply, but just nodded. It was true, Grimmjow believe it or not, was a terrible liar, not that he cared, he had nothing to lie _about_. He looked up at Ichigo, "So we gonna continue the chit chat or you're gonna tell me why you're here?"

He could tell the orange haired cop hadn't expected him to say that, it was clear from his expression, but Grimmjow had known that his friend hadn't shown up just for old times' sake. Sure Ichigo had dropped in a couple of times, but that had been before when he had time to check up on Grimmjow, he was a big gun now, he didn't have time for prison visits.

Ichigo looked at him and shook his head, "I wanted to surprise you and ease you into this, but alright let's get this show on the road."

He had not been expecting what came next. Ichigo pulled out a small briefcase from below the table, he pulled out a few papers and slid them across the table. Grimmjow took the papers and glanced through them, it was all lawyer talk, he looked up at his friend with a frown on his face. Before he could ask anything his friend cracked a grin, "Those, my friend, are very special papers."

"Do they come with or without a dictionary?" Grimmjow always knew he wasn't the smartest tool in the shed, but this was ridiculous. "What the hell do some of these words even mean?"

"They mean you can pack your bags, because you're getting out of here."

Blue eyes looked up, wide as ever, "No way...How the _fuck_ did that happen? I thought I had another 5 years to go."

Ichigo leaned back against his chair, and stretched, putting his arms behind his head, "Well I guess someone must've put in a good word in for you."

The blue haired man beamed, "So finally get to see the bad ass in action, huh?"

The other laughed, "Yea well, you had a really clean slate, didn't cause any trouble, so that helped. I had to pull a few strings but I finally convinced the judge who oversaw your case to get you out on bail. How awesome am I?"

Grimmjow snorted looking back at the papers, he shook his head in disbelief, "Man, this is what I've been fucking waiting for."

Ichigo stood up, "Come on then, let's bust you of here."


	3. Reunion

**A/N:** Revised Edition

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 3<strong>

Teal eyes scanned the shelves, upon finding the item he had been looking for, Grimmjow picked up the small box and dropped it into his basket moving on to the next aisle. It had been two weeks since he was let out of prison, and the blue haired man was enjoying every minute. He walked up to the check-out, a woman was sitting behind the till, she had cropped midnight hair with a sole streak of purple. The way she glanced around made her seem on edge, like she didn't belong in this dreary little place. She also looked utterly bored and pissed off at the same time, which impressed even Grimmjow. He couldn't help but notice her eyes, her right being a shade of icy blue, while the other was amber. He causally leaned back and read her name tag. For some insane reason her name sounded vaguely familiar, which switched him to alert mode.

"Morning Apacci. Good day ain't it?" He gave her one of his trademark grins.

"Piss off." Came the curt reply.

Grimmjow lifted his shoulders, and let them drop in a shrug "Playing hard to get? I can respect that."

This caused the woman to look at him, a smirk playing at her lips. "Should I be flattered? Because something tells me you don't respect a lot of people."

The blue haired man's grin was back, "What can I say, most people don't deserve respect, not my fault."

The movement was so slight that if Grimmjow hadn't been paying attention he might've missed it, but he saw the woman narrow her eyes ever so slightly. "That attitude must've got you in shit loads of trouble blue boy."

This caused the man to widen his grin, he waited as she passed his items through the till, adding up the bill. As Apacci reached for the box that Grimmjow had just taken from the shelf she raised one small eyebrow, looking up at the man, and matching his grin, "Worried your roots are beginning to show?" Maybe she wasn't doing it on purpose, but the girl was beginning to piss him off.

Blue eyes looked down at the hair dye box, "See but if I go natural, no ones gonna call me blue boy. And that'll be a shame." He looked back up at her, Grimmjow didn't know why but something about this woman being here just seemed odd, or maybe he was paranoid, "So, I was wondering, why's a girl like you stuck in a job like this?"

The woman clenched her jaw, and Grimmjow couldn't hold back the smile as he realised he had hit the nail on the head, the blue haired man heard a 'fuck you' through thinned lips. Alright, so maybe there was no real reason to be paranoid, she's probably a girl stuck in a low paid job, having to deal with all kinds of assholes. Boo. Hoo. Enjoying the moment Grimmjow slapped a couple of bills on the counter, gave her a friendly wave, grabbed his things and left the small convenience store.

He walked through the streets bags in hand, alright so he dyes his hair blue, who fucking cared? Honestly, Grimmjow couldn't remember the last time his hair hadn't been blue. He had always hated his hair colour as a kid, it just looked odd, not him. So, in middle school Grimmjow had gone out, bought a few hair dyes, experimented and found a colour that just seemed right, it suited him and his messed up personality. Course after a few years, people actually started believing his real hair colour was blue, thought it was some weird genetic disorder, like albino people, but he had never bothered correcting them. Let the idiots believe what they fucking wanted to, not like he cared.

Turning a corner, Grimmjow pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He looked up at the buildings as he passed, every now and then his eyes dropping back onto the paper. A February wind brushed past him, "Fucking weather." He muttered, lifting the collar of his leather jacket. He hated the cold, he could take the heat, he would rather be left in the desert and have no water than be left in chilly, pissy winds. As Grimmjow reached the end of the street, he stopped in front of a small store. He looked down at the piece of paper, and then back up at the building. Taking a deep breath he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

A bell had rung when the blue haired man had opened the door, it tinkled again as the door closed behind him. Teal eyes scanned the room, it was a small store, shelves stocked with books of every size, colour, and age. It was quiet, the only noise in the room was made by Grimmjow's heavy boots hitting the floor with each step. He looked around, hands in his pockets, it was a nice place, had a homely atmosphere. Reaching the counter he smirked at the man who was standing behind it. "Hey Ilforte. Been a while, eh?"

The man was slim, and tall, he had straight long blonde hair that fell beyond his shoulders. Green eyes were wide as they regarded the newcomer in surprise, his hands which had been holding a few books a minute ago were empty, items now on the floor. He was simply dressed in a white button up shirt and trousers, all in all, a complete opposite to the ex-felon. The moment he had left the shit hole, the blue haired man had called his old friend. This guy, in Grimmjow's opinion, was one of the few people that deserved the respect he had been talking about earlier. The two of them had known each other since they were in middle school, they use to live next door to each other, and the closest thing to family that he knew. The two of them were inseparable, that is, until they reached college, after that Grimmjow got swallowed in crazy town. They hardly ever got to meet after that, sure loads of phone calls but never face to face. Not that it was anyone's fault, Grimmjow had done that on purpose, no way was he letting his friend anywhere near _that_man.

The man named Ilforte smiled at his friend and came around the counter, "Too long." He answered, "How've you been Grimmjow?"

"I've not worn orange in two weeks, and that, feels fucking fantastic." Grin in place.

The blonde man laughed, "I'll bet, come on back, I'll get you something to drink." He ushered his friend behind the desk and through the door, which opened up into a small living room equipped with a basic couch, TV, fridge and kitchenette.

Grimmjow looked around and whistled, "Nice place. Seems a little small though, don't you think?" He plopped down onto the couch.

"This is only for my breaks or slow evenings. My apartment is actually upstairs." Ilforte walked over to the fridge, "Beer?"

An eyebrow was raised, "You know I'd love one, but since when do you-?" He caught the bottle that was thrown at him.

"On rare occasions I make exceptions." The blonde man looked at his friend, as he leaned back against the counter, arms folded, he just shook his head, "Only you, you know that? How'd you get out?" That was Ilforte, asking Grimmjow how he got out, but never why he was thrown in.

The blue haired man shrugged, "You should've seen the papers...Those things were complicated, I had to get someone to explain it to me more than once, but the bottom line." He looked at his friend, "I was let out under the _prospect_ of good behaviour", he made a face, "My bail being paid, the fact I had helped police by sharing info with them, and evidence of my crime, well, being bullshit."

Ilforte nodded, "That's quite a few reasons."

"Exactly, makes you think, if all that had to be done to get me out, how much shit was I exactly in?"

The blonde man chuckled, "Not that much if you were let out. Besides," He seemed thankful, "You finally have some good news in your life." Despite his words, Grimmjow felt the need to be wary.

"I don't like it."

Green eyes softened, "I know you don't. I get it, you've been through a lot and have every reason to be suspicious, doesn't mean that everything good has to have some sort of strings attached."

Grimmjow smirked, "Well I call it being careful."

"And I call it being paranoid. You're out prison for god's sake. Do you really want to question why you were brought out?" _Isn't it better than going back?_ Silently hung in the air.

No matter how comfortable he had been in prison, something about being trapped inside four walls just didn't sit too well with him. Sure he had gotten use to the safety and routine of the place, but Grimmjow would rather be outside, able to run, than be trapped and safe. Danger he could deal with, hell, danger gave him fucking kicks. Sure he'd been able to fool himself into thinking that prison was good, but even the mentally retarded would chose the outside world before iron bars. He knew the moment Ichigo said he was being let out, that he would not look back. Maybe Ilforte was right, did he really want to be thrown back into the shit hole?

The blue haired man bit his lip, took a gulp of chilled beer, and let out a breath, "I know, I _know_. Damn it! Don't look at me like that!" He stood up, "Look, I'm just peachy about getting out of that dump. God knows if I had stayed any longer, I would've died from crappy food and shitty company. All I'm saying is that I don't want to be stupid about this." He gave his friend a look, "Better to be safe than sorry, isn't that what you'd tell me?"

His friend laughed, "Yea, and I also told you being so angry all the time is bad for your health. See how well that turned out?"

"Shut up."

"Look, just..." He paused, "You've been let out, that's like getting a new slate. Do you really want to waste it? Come on, there must be something you've been dying to do that you couldn't in prison."

Grimmjow grinned. "Yea, get laid."

Ilforte laughed, "Alright so you go get laid. Although that was way too much information, even for me."

"What and sharing gushy feelings isn't? Stop being so girly Ilforte, and go get a haircut."

"I will choose to ignore the haircut comment," He gave his friend a look, as if to say, _who the hell are you to talk about hair?_ "Right, so where are you staying anyway?"

Grimmjow fell back on the couch kicking his feet up as he stretched, "At Ichigo's, he's got work most of the time, but he says I can stay there as long as I need. Nice place too, got a massive TV."

"You know you are always welcome here."

The blue haired man looked up at his friend and nodded, "Yea I know." Truth was, he would've stayed at Ilforte's, but right now, staying close to a cop seemed like a good choice to Grimmjow. "Besides, you know how I feel about books, I'm falling asleep by just being around them." Suddenly from behind, the two men heard a familiar jingle as someone walked into the book store.

"Hey Ilforte, you in here?"

Every muscle in Grimmjow's body froze, a nerve in his jaw twitched as his teeth were clenched tightly. He sat up straight, hands forcefully shoved into his pockets, he exhaled loudly. Switching to alert mood teal eyes narrowed at green, "You've got to be fucking kidding me." He spat.

Ilforte unfazed by his friends' actions, simply called out to the stranger, "I'm back here. Come on in."

Before the blue man could object any further, another walked into the small room. He was lean, not as tall as Grimmjow and Ilforte, but by no means short. He was dressed in similar attire to the blonde man, but had shoulder length hair, which had been dyed a bright pink. A thin pair of white frames were propped on the edge of his nose. The man was carrying a few books, "I got what you asked for, wasn't easy bu-" Stiff silence fell in the room as the man finally noticed Grimmjow, after a moment he smiled, making his golden eyes gleam as if he found him the most interesting object in the room, which only pissed the ex-felon off even further. "_Grimmjow_? Is that you?"

"No dumbass it's Santa." Was the snappy reply.

"I see prison hasn't dampened your sense of humour."

"Yea and it hasn't _dampened,_" he mimicked, "My ability to snap necks either, so don't piss me off."

The man leaned against the door way, assuming the same posture as Ilforte, "Think you're such a badass just because you're an ex-criminal." He smiled pleasantly at Grimmjow. "My, if only you were half as breath-taking as you think you are-"

"Then he'd still be twice as cool as you really are Syazel." Ilforte commented, stopping whatever it was Grimmjow was about to do. He watched his friend from the corner of his eye, "I thought I asked you to come by tomorrow?"

He looked at the blonde man "I can't, I have work tomorrow. Besides," Amber eyes lingered at the figure seated on the couch, "I'm so glad I was able to see good old Grimmjow. A real treat for someone like me."

A tiny snarl came from Grimmjow, something about this guy had always put him on edge, he didn't like the pink fluff, and when he didn't like someone, they would find out with a fist to their face. The only reason that he hadn't done anything, _yet_, was because this stupid freak was regrettably Ilforte's little brother. And his friend had asked him not to do anything, the things a guys gotta do for someone he respects. Too bad Ilforte didn't say anything about mouthing off at Syazel. "Get the fuck out Barbie."

There was that creepy smile again, "Alright, I can take a hint." He turned towards the door but paused a moment, "See you around tiger." And left without another word.

Grimmjow turned back to his friend, "If he comes here often, then you won't be seeing me very much. Just saying."

"Oh well, I guess I'll just have to change your mind." Ilforte stepped towards the small archway that had stairs going up, and down. He looked back at his friend and smiled, "Come on, I got something to show you." Making his way down the stairs.

Getting off the couch, the ex-felon followed his friend. They walk down the steps silently, and at the bottom was a door, but it was no simple door, it looked to be made out pure silver, or strong metal. It had a small electric numeric keypad and scanner next to it implanted on the wall. Ilforte first punched in a few keys, the small red light above it changed to green. After that he pressed his palm against the scanner, a few seconds passed, the door buzzing before pushing itself open. Grimmjow stood there staring at his friend, "And you call me fucking paranoid."

The blonde man laughed, "I did, didn't I?"

The two men walked into what was a small garage, in the middle was a sleek black sports car, to the side was a small object covered with a thick black sheet, Grimmjow couldn't make out what it was. Once again the room was equipped with similar items as the lounge upstairs, the only new thing was a desk that was scattered with papers and had a laptop on it. At the back of the room was a ramp that led up to another electric door, what Grimmjow assumed, the way out for the car from this underground basement. He looked around, then looked back at his friend, "Again, if your creepy ass and annoying as shit brother didn't come around, I might take you up on the offer on staying here."

Ilfortee walked over to the desk and smiled, "Thought you might." He picked up a few papers, and held them out to his friend, "Here."

A blue eyebrow was raised, "What's this?" When he didn't get an answer, he took the sheets and glanced through them, each had a list of available apartments, jobs, rental cars, and so many other things. He looked up at his friend, "Fuck you." As if he needed to be reminded how he had no income or transport, his life seriously needed to be put back on track.

The blonde bit his lip in an attempt to not smile, but after another minute, he gave up, "You should see your face right now. I almost forgot how easy it is to piss you off."

"I almost forgot how funny you think you are."

Ilforte rolled his eyes, "Alright, so that's not what I wanted to show you, though you could keep those if you want." Snorting at the sound of papers being ripped, he then walked over to the item draped by the black cloth and held a corner of the sheet, "Thought you might've missed this." He pulled hard at the fabric.

Grimmjow stood frozen as the material fell to the floor, "_No_." He stared wide eyed at what had been beneath it. It was a bike, with midnight black paint and a polished silver engine. The tyres were big, powerful and heavily compressed. Across the side of the bike, a white panther had been painted on, its body stretched, tail curved, nails bared, eyes sharp, the feline ready to strike. The bike stood there silently but Grimmjow knew how loud this thing could get, how it purred when the engine was revved. He took a step forward, running his fingers over the metal, "Baby I missed you." He whispered to it. On the seat was a matching midnight helmet. The blue haired man picked it up and glanced down at the red leather interior of it, he looked back at his friend, "All this time?" He took in a breath, taking in the smell of the leather, "How'd you find her?"

The blonde man shrugged, "Doesn't matter, I've been looking after it. Kinda thought you'd want her back." He threw a pair of keys at his friend, who caught it with ease, "Here."

Grimmjow grinned, putting the keys into the ignition, "Thanks. One more tube ride and I was going to kill someone."

Ilforte laughed, "Why do I have the feeling you missed the bike more than me?"

The engine came to life, and blue haired man's eyes gleamed. "See you around Ilforte. I'm going home." He quickly slipped on his helmet.

And maybe he was going to take the long way back this time.


	4. The feelings you get

**A/N:** Revised Edition

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 4<strong>

_It was wet, dark and cold. The rain was not showing any signs of stopping, the storm clouds howled in the sky. A thin figure was stumbling along the street, leaning heavily onto the wall. The young person was drenched with every inch of his clothing sticking to skin, the only shelter from the pouring rain was the hoodie that had been pulled over his head._

_Sirens could be heard in the distance, echoing through the streets. The sound made the figure stiffen, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Blue eyes looked up at the sky, squinting to avoid getting rain drops in them. Grimmjow lifted his numb fingers, pushing back the hair that was sticking to his forehead. What the fuck had he just done? The man slid down to the ground, resting his head against the wall. This was bad, really bad._

_He had been called over to do one of his drop offs, he'd been doing them a few months now. It was supposed to be like any job, pick up the package, drive down on his bike to one of the regular warehouses, leave it inside, and get the fuck out. Shaky fingers pointlessly wiped more water from his forehead. Grimmjow sighed, then winced, clutching his stomach. His shirt sticking further against his skin, making it burn. It was the furthest thing from a regular job. It was a fucking ambush, and the idiot he was, Grimmjow had walked right into it!_

_The sirens rang out again, this time much closer. The young man cursed, scrambling to his feet. He made it a few steps, before he slipped on the muddy earth, causing him to stumble a little. Grimmjow took in a deep breath, this was no time to be panicking, he straightened up. Fuck the pay. He was officially handing in his letter of resignation._

"_Where are you going?" A voice called from behind him, slightly muffled by the pounding rain._

_Surprised, Grimmjow jerked around, then immediately hissed in pain. He looked down, his soaked shirt had a deep crimson stain around the stomach._

"_Come __Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."_

_Blue eyes narrowed at the small man in front of him, he was at least a foot shorter than Grimmjow. Pale skin contrasted by blank emerald eyes, midnight hair pulled away from his face. He stood up straight, confidence pouring out of him, this guy was not to be messed with._

"_Fuck off." Too bad Grimmjow messed with everyone. He dealt with those assholes back at the warehouse, no point in stopping now._

_The stranger's lips thinned into a hard line. "I must tend to your wounds." The voice by no means was soothing or even comforting. His voice lacked any form of sentiment._

"_Why?" When he got no reply, he snarled "Who the hell are you?"_

_The man looked at him, he blinked once, "I am not entitled to provide you with that piece of information." He raised a slim finger when Grimmjow tried to retort, "I am here on behalf on your employer.__He wishes that you come to meet him."_

_The blue haired man's blood ran cold, he hadn't met any of the big guys, he only dealt with the people at the bottom of the food chain. No way in fucking hell. He took a deep breath, trying to shake the icy feeling from his nerves, "Oh good, so you can pass on the message. No more, I'm fucking out. You guys never mentioned having to deal with crazy pisspots." He turned around._

"_Perhaps I was unclear __Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, I was not making a request, it was an order. Do not walk away when I am speaking."_

_Grimmjow looked back at the man getting angry, "You deaf shithead? I said I quit." He took a few more shaky steps._

_It happened so fast, the blue haired man never saw it coming. One minute he was walking, the next he was being shoved against a wall, with pain erupting from his stomach. One hand was at his throat, and green eyes regarded him. Instinctively, Grimmjow grabbed the hand that was cutting off his air supply as he choked. "F-fucker!" For god's sake! He was being beat by a pipsqueak._

_For the first time since he had spoken, this man's voice showed a faint emotion, disgust. "Now listen very carefully to me you filthy mutt. You had your opportunity to leave the organisation and its dealings." The grip tightened, "However, after today, that very small window has finally closed. So I suggest." He took a step forward, "You learn to take orders. Do you understand now or must I simplify it even further for you?"_

_Blue eyes narrowed dangerously, Grimmjow grunted, his way of saying sure. As the gripped loosened, a knee jerked upward, causing the slightest show of pain from the smaller man. Like hell would he listen to orders. Now free, the bigger man pulled his fist back, and brought it forward. It met air. Grimmjow felt a pressure against the back of his knees. He fell to the ground, movement was heard. He rolled to his side, just as a foot crashed onto the ground where he had been seconds before. He cringed from the burning sensation in his stomach._

_Seeing his pain, the smaller man regained composure, looking down with cold emerald eyes, "You cannot walk away. Your fate has been sealed Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."_

"Grimmjow?" A pressure on his shoulder, "_Grimmjow._"

Blue eyes flew open, a snarl escaping from his throat, Grimmjow shot up. He hit his head against something, hard. A groan escaped his lips. He looked at pissed brown eyes and ruffled orange hair.

"_Shit_. Damnit Grimmjow that's the last time I wake you up!"

Grimmjow snorted at Ichigo, adrenaline fading from his system "You say that every time." He sat up stretching his arms above his heads, joints cracking, before falling back onto the couch, yawning.

"Yea well, you're snoring was messing up my concentration so shut up." The orange haired man was just wearing a pair of faded jeans, his hair was wet with a small towel around his neck. He jerked his chin out, "Dude, why must you sleep naked on _my_couch?"

Grimmjow looked down, he only had on a pair of black boxers with the sheets on the floor, which probably had fallen off sometime during the night. He grinned up at his friend, leaning further back, "Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

It was his friends turn to snort, "Nothing will ever make me feel uncomfortable ever again after having had dinner with the Kuchiki's."

The blue haired man laughed. The Kuchiki's were an aristocratic family that often lent their help to the police department, why though, no one knew. There was nothing wrong with it, except the fact that the whole family was known for their stiff postures and demeaning attitude. Grimmjow personally thought they all had giant poles shoved up their asses, then again he hated most of the people Ichigo hung out with. He looked at his friend, "So you gonna be a good boy and kiss up to that little shrimp, what's her name? Ruchi-"

"Rukia, and what you call kiss up, most people call being polite." He walked around the couch, towards the open kitchen. "But no, I'm not going to kiss up to her. You up for some food?"

Grimmjow grinned, turning around, "Fuck yea, I'd kill for some pancakes."

"It's 2:30 in the afternoon shithead." Nonetheless, the orange head started moving around the kitchen, finding some appropriate food for his friend.

"So? You could have pancakes for lunch. Live a little, berry." Blue eyes gleamed as he dodged the cutlery that was thrown at him.

"Screw you." A familiar scowl in place.

Grinning, the blue haired man stood up, kicking the sheet under the couch, it was already on the floor so who cared? He made a trip to the bathroom to freshen up. Once he came out Grimmjow could smell eggs from the kitchen, the one good thing about living in a small apartment was the fact you could never hide food from one another. And sharing was always caring. Grimmjow was walking towards the kitchen when he noticed Ichigo's work table, placed in the corner of the living room. It was covered with papers. That wasn't what caught Grimmjow's attention, it was the picture of a dead body.

He grabbed the picture off the table, the man was lying on his stomach, his arm bent in an impossible angle, his clothes were muddy and covered with blood. His back was covered with deep wounds, almost like he had been hit again, and again. The skin was tearing off in some places, the pictures were so vivid Grimmjow could almost smell the rotten flesh. But all those things weren't what had drawn his attention. It was the man's light hair, looking almost silver. His head had been turned to the side, meaning a part of his face could be seen. The man's mouth had been left open, revealing square, shark like teeth. His right eye was closed, but the skin around it was severely injured, a darker shade to the rest of his body, the man wouldn't have been able to see from that eye. But it wasn't a new wound, it was at least 4 years old. Grimmjow would know, he was the one who gave the man that injury.

"Di Roy." He whispered. He looked at other photos, showing the body from different angles, each more graphic than the last, "_Fuck."_

"Grimmjow?" His friend called from the kitchen, when Ichigo didn't receive an answer, he carried the food into the living room. He stopped when he saw his friend. He looked at the papers, then back up at Grimmjow, whose face was unreadable. "You okay?"

Blue eyes snapped to his friend, after a moment he shrugged, "Yea, just looking through." He looked back at the table, "So what happened?"

The orange haired man sighed, walking over to the table and putting the food down. He collected all the papers, "I dunno, we found him a few days ago. I think he was dump and go case. Some of the wounds are really old, so it couldn't have happened then and there."

Grimmjow scoffed, "I'll bet."

Ichigo looked more closely at one of the photos, he pointed to one corner, towards the man's neck. "See that mark there."

Grimmjow leaned forward, it was faint, but one patch of Di Roy's neck had scratches on it, like someone had tried to physically rip the skin off.

The police officer continued, "See, normally we wouldn't be too sure about what that would mean. But" He pulled out another photo from a manila folder. This photo was a mug shoot of Di Roy, when he wasn't ripped to pieces, "This was taken two years ago, look at his neck then."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, then widened them, "It's a tattoo."

"Exactly, now the only thing we need to figure out is what 'L.N' means, maybe a gang related thing, or someone he knew. Whatever it was, it important enough that it had to be scratched off his neck."

The blue haired man stored those two letters in his memory, L.N. He would definitely be checking up on that. He grabbed a chair and shoved the forgotten food into his mouth. Right now, he needed to clear his head. "For fucks sake Ichigo, it's the weekend. You gotta stop bringing this shit home with you."

Brown eyes regarded Grimmjow, "Considering I'm the one paying for everything, I think you gotta shut up." He then rubbed his eyes and sighed, "But I can't help it man. Stuff's happening."

A blue eyebrow was raised, "Stuff?" Grimmjow then grinned, "Shit, come on Ichigo say it, shit's happening."

The orange haired man laughed, "You're a shithead. Happy?"

"Not really, where are my pancakes?"

Ichigo just stared at his friend, there was a small pause, as if Ichigo was contemplating something. After another few minutes, he looked up, "Hey listen."

Grimmjow looked at him, food still in his mouth, "Yea?"

Brown eyes looked on the table, "Before I woke you...y-you were making noises while you slept."

The blue haired man made a face, "Dude every guy has those drea -"

"You sounded afraid."

The silence stretched for ages.

After a few minutes of staring at each other, Ichigo finally sighed, "If you don't want to talk it's-"

Grimmjow slammed his fists on the table, his jaws clenched, "Then don't fucking ask." He got up from the table, pushing his plate away, "I ain't hungry."

He walked away from his friend to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Alright, so maybe he was overreacting a little, Ichigo was just looking out for him, but, fuck! Grimmjow was never good at sharing, he didn't take part in circle time, and the orange idiot should know that by now. Every time, every _single_ time something happened, to anyone. Ichigo swooped in like some god damn superhero, wanting to take the burden and help them out. That was Ichigo, the knight in shining armour. Too bad it wasn't Grimmjow, he wasn't like his friend in any sense. He got into shit himself. So he dealt with shit himself.

It's not the first time he blew up in Ichigo's face, Grimmjow and Ichigo had had this argument a hun-fucking-dred times already. His friend just didn't get the message, Grimmjow didn't want to talk about it, he couldn't talk about it, cus' the more he talked about it, the more he thought about it. And the only thing Grimmjow wanted, was to _forget_, forget the years he spent trapped in that hell. Besides, the only thing keeping him out of sight from his ex-employer was the fact he kept his mouth shut.

Blue eyes starred at themselves in the mirror. His muscles were stiff and on edge, he was nervous. Grimmjow had been having the same dream for a few days now. He couldn't shake the nightmare. And if that wasn't bad enough, Di Roy was now dead, lying in some morgue being poked at by cops. _L.N_, Grimmjow thought hard, what the hell was L.N? Some sort of code word, why the hell had it been fucking ripped off? Sure, every member in dump had some sort of position, a way of ranking themselves. But someone at Di Roy's level got nothing more than nasty looks and comments. Then again, it had been a while since Grimmjow had been in that place. Maybe they were under new management.

He snorted, not a chance. The blue haired man took in a deep breath, deciding to clear his head. A walk sounded good right about now, he needed movement. Grabbing his clothes, he got changed. After a second thought, Grimmjow changed into trainers, a run would be a better idea. Coming out into the hall, he quietly picked up the house keys. He was still pissed at Ichigo, so Grimmjow grabbed his friends IPod, making his way to the door. He paused when he heard his friend's voice, somewhere in the kitchen, whispering furiously.

"What?" Grimmjow could easily imagine the frown on Ichigo's face. "Jesus! This is the fourth one in two weeks...Are you sure?" A sigh, "Look, I'm swamped, can't you get Rukia to look over it, she's been dying for a new case...I get it...Yea...Okay...Fine...Alright I said I got it!"

The blue haired man crossed his arms over his chest just as Ichigo came out of the kitchen. Grimmjow's curiosity overpowered his anger, for now. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Nothing, just some weird cases. That's all."

Grimmjow could sense his friend's uneasiness, so he just nodded, and left the apartment. If his friend didn't want to talk about, he wouldn't push. Besides Grimmjow didn't think he could handle any more dead bodies. He'd had enough for a lifetime, and more. He shook his head, he didn't want to think about it, all he wanted to do now was run.

The blue haired man started with a steady pace, but after a couple of blocks, he pulled out the head phones, not wanting to be distracted by the music. Instead he focused on the sounds of his feet hitting the gravel footpath. _Thud_. _Thud_. He focused on his breathing, in through his nose, out through his mouth. He focused on the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. Grimmjow closed his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his sweaty face. He continued this for a couple of blocks, picking up his speed every now and then. There was nothing like the burn in his muscles, the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of just being _alive_.

After an hour, the blue haired slowed to stop in front of a small convenience store. He stretched properly so he wouldn't have any sore spots tomorrow. Grimmjow checked his pulse, grinning at calm feeling that washed over him after his exercise. Blue eyes looked at the store, after putting the headphones back on he went inside. Buying a few snacks and a sports drink, Grimmjow came out. He started walking home, bags in hand, a chocolate bar in his mouth.

After a few minutes, the blue haired man was becoming tense, all feelings of tranquillity long gone. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, adrenaline begun to rise, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. Grimmjow knew this feeing. It was the feeling of being watched.


	5. One Sizzling Panther

**A/N:**Alright, first off I apologise for updating this so late, and secondly, personally I'm not too happy with this chapter, to me it's sort of a filler, to make sure I reach a stage of this story where the plot can really begin, but I couldn't do that without getting through this.

-Revised Edition  
><span><strong><br>Prison Break  
>Chapter 5<strong>

_Grimmjow knew this feeing. It was the feeling of being watched._

...

The blue man muttered some colourful words to himself, could he not get a fucking break? Grimmjow took a deep breath to calm his nerves, maybe he was just overreacting, being paranoid like Ilforte. After all, someone could just be staring at his hair, it's not like that hasn't happened before.

Yet the feeling did not disappear, in fact it seemed to intensify, that's when the man realised he needed to deal with his pursuer, and quick. He changed his route, not wanting to lead whoever it was right back to Ichigo. The crowds of people decreased as Grimmjow entered the more neglected part of town, he kept at a steady speed, not wanting to make the other suspicious of his actions. Blue eyes focused on a small alleyway that was coming up to his right. Perfect. Keeping an ear open to the second set of footsteps, Grimmjow reached the alleyway, and make a quick turn.

Wasting no time, he dropped his bags, and pushed himself against the wall. Keeping an eye on the shadow that approached, he took a deep breath. Just as the figure turned, Grimmjow lunged forward, barely noticing a flash of pink, a snarl escaping his throat. A loud crash was heard, with his pursuer firmly pushed up against the wall. One of Grimmjow's arms at the others throat, the other pulled back in a fist, ready to be used.

"Easy tiger."

Blue eyes narrowed, his body might have relaxed, but not his anger, "What the _fuck_are you doing fuzzball?"

Syazel smiled, "I was following you...obviously."

Grimmjow pushed his arm further into the others throat, not enough to suffocate him, but to make breathing a little more difficult, "I got that. _Why_ were you following me?"

The smaller man tried to shrug, "If I could breathe then maybe I'd tell you."

The blue haired man let go of him and dropped his arms, taking a large step back, all he wanted now was to go home in fucking peace.

Syazel lightly rubbed his throat, clearing trying to ease the pain, golden eyes looked at Grimmjow, he put up his palms in a rather exaggerated manner and let out an unnecessary sigh, "Don't flatter yourself, I was not following you out of my personal choice. Trust me, there're yummier cats in the jungle." He winked at the other man, not fazed by the sneer he got, "Let's just say," he waved his right hand in a general circle, "That's someone's been worried about you, so they asked me to keep an eye out."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, something about this guy always made him feel so uncomfortable and it wasn't the guys' hair. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. Leave it up to Ilforte to worry about him so much. He'd have to talk to him later on, especially about Syazel, how the hell could those two even be remotely related? Blue eyes watched the pink haired man who was now casually leaning against the wall, arms folded, golden eyes watching him with that gleam. Freak.

Wanting nothing more than to just go home, Grimmjow decided to deal with things quickly, "Alright, I guess I can see why Ilforte must have his hair in a twist, but," he pointed his finger at Syazel, "Back off, I can take care of myself. I don't fucking need you following me around."

Syazel's slim fingers pushed the white frames further up the bridge of his nose and Grimmjow watched wearily as that creepy smile appeared on the man's face, "Is that so? Well I'll be sure to let Ilforte know." Pushing himself off the wall, he walked to where Grimmjow had dropped his bags and picked them up. He came back, smile still present on his face, placing them back into the blue haired man's hands.

Grimmjow snatched his hand away, "Don't touch me." Something about his behaviour was putting the blue haired man back on edge. And he always trusted his instincts.

"Easy tiger. I ain't gonna hurt you."

Blue eyes narrowed at golden, "Well, _I_ might."

Syazel threw his head back, laughing, "Oh, how I wish I could see someone be able to put you in your place."

A snort, "Yea, I'd like to see that happen too."

Golden eyes gleamed once more, as they looked at the larger man with amusement, "Hmmm, you sure about that?" He then turned around, walking back onto the street, leaving a very confused Grimmjow alone.

What. Just. Happened?

The blue haired man just ran a hand through his hair, he seriously needed a long nap and food. Turning around, he started walking back onto the streets, making his way home. After fifteen minutes Grimmjow was nearly home, he had switched Ichigo's iPod back on some time ago, causing him to bob his head to the beat of the song, nothing like good ol' rock and roll. Grimmjow was passing by a subway entrance, when he noticed a flyer stuck on one of the doors. Blue eyes widened. He froze on the stop.

He grabbed the paper, starring at it, it was advert for a night club down town, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Except this club was called, 'Late Night', Grimmjow thought back to the morning and the pictures of the dead man he knew, _L.N_, maybe it was just a coincidence, but knowing Grimmjow's luck, it was most likely wasn't. He shoved the paper into his pocket, maybe he'd tell Ichigo about this, so he could get some of his cop friends to look into it. He made it back to the apartment five minutes later, in desperate need of answers.

Grimmjow must've banged the front door pretty hard, cus two minutes later Ichigo was walking into the room, frowning at him, "I thought exercise is suppose to make you feel _better_."

"Don't even get me started."

A snort, "Yea, cus you just love talking about yourself."

Blue eyes locked with brown. Guess Grimmjow wasn't the only one pissed about their last conversation.

The blue haired man sighed, putting is hands up in mock surrender, "I'm sorry alright? I didn't mean to blow up in your face. I was just stressed."

"About?"

"Don't push it."

His friend sighed, "Got it, what took you so long anyway?" It was subtle, but Grimmjow heard the hint of worry. Man, did all his friends think he was going to be kidnapped or something? He wasn't a god damn baby.

"Met Ilforte's creepy little brother on the way back."

Ichigo raised his eyebrows, "The pink haired dude?"

Grimmjow made a face. "Yup, fuzzball and all."

"What he want?"

Grimmjow walked into the kitchen, Ichigo following him, he opened the fridge, looking for something to eat. He grinned when he found a perfectly made sandwich left on a plate, "Come to mama." He grabbed it and wasted no time in eating it, he looked back at his friend, "He was trailing me, said it was cus Ilforte was worried about me."

Ichigo gave Grimmjow a look, "So the solution is to track you?"

The blue haired man shrugged, "Whatever." Wiping his hands off on the front of his jeans. "So what you been up to?"

The orange haired man stretched his arms above his head, and sighed, "Just swamped with work."

"More murders?"

"No, robberies."

"That doesn't sound so bad." With the look Ichigo gave him, Grimmjow became defensive, "What?"

"Let me show you." The orange haired man walked back into the living room, Grimmjow close behind, they went over to where Ichigo's work table was, and it was messier than ever. The officer shuffled through papers, finding one, he picked it up and handed it to his friend.

Grimmjow took it and looked at it carefully, it had a list of various businesses, retailers, wholesalers, manufacturers, you name it. Next to each name was a list of numbers, with a lot of zero's. He looked up at his friend, "Okay, so?"

"Each one of those businesses has lost that much money, whether in cash, stock or assets." Grimmjow frowned, still not getting, which made his friend sighed, "What makes it strange, is that for each business, there's no signs of any tampering. No forced entry in warehouses, no messed up inventory, no missing products. Nothing, the cash is just gone from the business."

The blue haired man raised an eyebrow, "That's a lot of money."

"Exactly."

Grimmjow flung the papers back on the desk, walking back to the coach, "Dude, like I said, you gotta stop bringing this shit home with you." He fell back onto the comfy furniture, "You've totally forgotten how to have fun."

"I have not."

"When was the last time you got laid?" The silence was all the answer Grimmjow needed, he sat up, grinning at his friend, who was scowling at him, "Well I know just how to change that."

His friend made a face, "What do you have in mind?"

Slowly, Grimmjow pulled the flyer out of his pocket, handing over to Ichigo. His friend looked at it, and after a moment, he widened his eyes. Grimmjow starred at him, did he know about this club? Did that mean they figured out that this was connected to that L.N that was on Di Roy's neck? Was he right about it being a lead? He leaned closer, carefully he asked, "So what you think?"

His friend smiled at him, "Well whatta ya know, I was just about to invite you to this place."

Not the reaction Grimmjow was expecting, "What?"

"My office decided we needed something to take our minds off the cases, so we all are having a night out. I was thinking of asking you, since you're always cooped up."

_Well, that was disappointing_ thought Grimmjow, he finally thought he was onto something. There was no way the cops would have a party at a place that was a potential lead to a murder case. _Guess that means I'm back to square one_. Though the idea of an actually party didn't seem all that bad to Grimmjow, he needed something to calm his nerves. Grimmjow was about to pass on the offer, when he realised something. Ichigo's entire team would be there, surely one of them would know more about Di Roy's death, with the help of a few drinks of course. Grimmjow looked at the orange haired man and grinned, "Sure why not. Think we all need a break." And just to annoy his friend, he added, "Besides some of those chick friends of yours are hot!"

Ichigo groaned and threw a pillow at his friend, "_Dude_!" He turned around, and started walking towards his bedroom, calling out, "We're leaving at eight, and you better not embarrass me in front of my boss shithead or I'll fucking kill you."

The blue haired man laughed as he heard his friend slam a door shut. Sobering up, he looked over at the clock that hung on the opposite wall. Grimmjow had a couple of hours to kill, guess he could slip that nap in then.

Xxxxxxxxxx

_It was warm, Grimmjow took a deep breath, the air smelt like cinnamon and the ocean. Odd combination, but to him it was happiness._

"_What you thinking about tiger?" Came a soft voice from below him. A flash of colours presented themselves to Grimmjow, pink cheeks, thin lips, hazel eyes, and light green hair. One of the most beautiful women the blue haired man had ever met._

_He looked down at the face that was lying on his lap and smiled, "Nothing, go back to sleep."_

_The woman frowned, but it quickly disappeared as she raised herself up to kiss Grimmjow softly on his lips, "You worry too much, everything is going to be okay."_

"_The only thing I'm worried about is you leaving me," he wrapped his arms gently around her, pulling the woman up onto his lap properly._

"_Don't be, I'd never pick any other cat from the jungle." Hazel eyes locked with blue, she smiled, "Now how about we both get to sleep, we got a big day tomorrow."_

_She didn't have to remind him, Grimmjow knew. Tomorrow would decide between freedom or death, but one thing he knew for sure, was he was not going to let anything happen to the woman with him now, he whispered in her ear, "I promise I'm going to keep you safe Nel."_

_The woman smiled at him with nothing but adoration and trust gracing her features, "Then why did you kill me?"_

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open up, and he sat up, breathing deeply. Guilt was welling up in his throat, making it suffocating, he tried to swallow it and look around with wide eyes. Fading sunlight flooded into Ichigo's apartment, casting shadows all around. Blue eyes looked up at the clock, it was seven thirty, looks like he'd slept for a few hours. Grimmjow looked down at his hands to see that they were shaking, he brought them up to his face, and jerked them away. There were water drops on them. He starred at them for a few minutes, then he slowly touched his face again, noticing the corners of his eyes were wet.

_Shit_. Grimmjow got up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom, could he not get break? Didn't matter if he was asleep or awake, seems like his past was hell bent on making sure he never forgot a thing. He looked up at his reflection. Blue eyes were distant and far off, there were shadows around the edges of his lids, making him seem tired. He was tired, he didn't even jump when there was a knock on the door.

"Dude you ready?" Obviously Ichigo hadn't seen him, otherwise they would've most likely had another one of their classic arguments.

"Gimme a minute." Grimmjow weighed his options, he could either ditch Ichigo and the club and stay at home reliving his nightmare, or he could go and have a miserable time. _Decisions_, _decisions_. He starred at himself, and snarled at the reflection, "Coward," he hissed. That's right, that's what he was, standing in a bathroom feeling fucking sorry for himself, when Di Roy was dead and his murderer walking around scotch free. He narrowed his eyes. He was Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, he was not going to sit around moping, no. He was a stubborn son of a bitch, so he was going to go that party and he _was_ going to find the bastard that killed his friend, and when he did. Grimmjow grinned, he was going to_kill_that mother-fucker. With that thought in mind, he decided to get ready.

Late Night was probably the best night club Grimmjow had ever been to. It was small little place, that had been well laid out. The drinks bar ran all the down the right hand side, with crimson and midnight cushioned seats. The lighted dance floor took up most of the space, and all along the left hand side were the private booths, covered with heavy plush crimson curtains. The whole club itself was dark, with no main use of lighting, but in no ways was it suffocating, every minute there were flashes of neon lights of every colour, pink, then blue, then yellow, then green, then red, each light highlighting the people moving on the dance floor. Heavy bass beats rang out, people moving their hips and nodding their heads to the music.

The blue haired man looked over at his friend and grinned, "This is fucking awesome."

"What?" Asked Ichigo, cupping his ear.

Grimmjow leaned over, raising his voice, "I said this is awesome."

The orange haired man smiled, "I know! Reminds me of Urahara's place back in college."

Before he could answer, a voice shouted out, "Ichigo!" Both friends turned and noticed two of Ichigo's colleagues making their way through the crowd, one to Grimmjow's surprise was that Rukia chick. She was short and petite, pale skin and short black hair, with one strand of hair landing between her eyes. Grimmjow noticed as the lights changed from blue to yellow, that the woman was wearing violet contacts. She had on a fitted black dress, with white go-go boots. She smiled, noticing Grimmjow she put her hand out, she said loudly, trying to speak over the music, "I'm Rukia, you must be Grimmjow."

The blue haired grinned, and shook her out stretched hand, "Yup, nice to meet ya."

"Alright, we can introduce each other later, come on, everyone is already here." Called out from the person behind Rukia, but Grimmjow knew who the man was. They went way back.

"Is it me, or did you get _more_ tattoos from the last time I saw you Abarai?" He shouted.

The red head smiled, "You bet I did." His crimson hair was pulled away from his face, tied into a high pony tail, which revealed tribal tattoos that covered the majority of his forehead, a pair of designer looking shades were propped up onto his head, the man was wearing black jeans and a fitted white shirt. He put his around the blue haired man dragging him along to the back of the club, weaving through the dance floor, "Good seeing you again Jeagerjaques. It's been ages!" He called out.

Grimmjow grinned elbowing the other in the stomach lightly, "Tell me about it, I thought you were still moping about the fight you lost."

"Yea, and I heard you don't eat ketchup anymore, so did I really lose that fight?"

Blue eyes narrowed, "I'm going to _kill_ Ichigo!"

He heard the red head laugh, "Hey man, get enough drinks in him tonight, and he'd make himself the butt of jokes for the next year."

"What you guys talking about?" Both men turned around to see the orange haired man was standing behind them, Rukia long gone to the dance floor.

Grimmjow spoke first, "We were just making a deal of who's gonna get totally wasted first."

Ichigo grinned, "I'm so in on that. Loser takes the bill."

Time flew for Grimmjow, who seemingly had forgotten about the bad coincidences following him recently. He met the rest of Ichigo's team, not really remembering all their names, who knew the entire force could be so big. Some were kinda cool, others seemed like fucked up bastards, like that Uryuu dude.

But the blue haired man was on fire! He scored a dance with 5 different chicks, and even got 3 of their numbers. After hours of dancing, Grimmjow was beginning to feel hot, so he slipped off his leather jacket. Grimmjow pulled at black shirt, trying to air out his sweaty chest. He looked back to the bar, maybe a drink would be a good idea. He pulled away from the girl he was dancing with, walking over to the bar. He slid himself onto a stool, and laid his head onto the counter.

"You look worn out." Came a voice above him.

Grimmjow looked up, and saw a woman standing behind the counter. She had dark skin, her body was well toned with a very curvy figure. She had long, thick wavy brown hair with green eyes. She had a thick white necklace, which seemed to match the head band she was wearing. The woman was smiling at the blue haired man, who grinned back, leaning forward on the counter, "Not a chance. Just wanted an excuse to come talk to ya."

The woman laughed, "You're drunk."

"Not at all, in fact, I'd like another sizzling panther."

Green eyes gleamed, "You're going to wake up with one hell of a hangover tomorrow, you know that?"

Grimmjow continued grinning, "Are you saying you want to stay with me till tomorrow morning?"

She stayed silent instead went about making Grimmjow's drink. After finishing, she put a glass in front of the blue haired man, as he leant forward to take it, she reached across the counter, brushing her fingers against his neck and Grimmjow felt a heavy breath against his ear, "The name's Mila Rose. Franceska Mila Rose." Just as quickly, she had pulled back, walking to the other end of the bar, going out the back door.

Blue eyes followed her, Grimmjow could already feel the drinks beginning to take a toll on him, despite that, he still gulped down the drink in front of him, no way was he losing that bet to Ichigo or Abarai. He let out a big sigh as he finished, blinking twice to clear his vision. The man glanced down at the now empty glass, noticing that it had a small white napkin stuck to it. He frowned, pulling the napkin from the glass and opening it. The blue haired man grinned at what he saw.

It was a note with smooth, clear writing,

'_I just finished my shift, meet me outside and I'll show what a real sizzling panther is._

_F.._'

Grimmjow swivelled in his seat, leaning back, resting his elbows on the counter. He scanned the crowd, quickly finding his orange haired friend. After a few minutes of just starring, his friend seemed to have noticed because he looked back at the blue haired man. Grimmjow gave him one of his trademark grins, and a salute, pointing to the door. When Ichigo nodded, he got up, making his way to the back door. That was a code they had made up in college to let each other know they were spending the night with a chick, not the most complex guy code out there, but it did the trick.

Fresh air hit Grimmjow as soon as he threw open the back door. He took a couple of steps, looking around the alley for bartender. He barely registered the sound, when his feet were knocked out from under him, making Grimmjow crash to the ground. With a groan escaping his lips, he rolled onto his back. He looked up, blue eyes widening, Franceska Mila Rose was standing above him with a gun in her hands. Grimmjow placed his hands in front of him, "You should've told me you liked to play it rough."

The woman smiled, "Stand up."

The blue haired complied, the back of his mind reminding him that he was being pushed around by a chick. He balanced himself on shaky feet, guess he shouldn't of had those drinks after all. He watched the woman in front of him carefully, did she want his cash? Made sense, single guys out, and then force them to give it up, pretty smart. Too bad she picked him tonight, Grimmjow pushed his weight onto his back leg, before he leapt forward. He moved an inch to the right just as a shot was fired. Dropping to the floor, he pushed out his leg, knocking the woman to the ground. He watched her struggle to regain her breath, her right hand was stretching, reaching out-

He kicked the gun out of her reach. "If this was what you wanted to show me, then I'm disappointed Franceska Mila Rose." Grimmjow grinned as the woman snarled at him, but he was so busy watching her, he didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late.

"What about me blue boy?" An unbearable burning pain shot through his stomach, weakening him. He fell to his knees with a groan, trying to take deep, shaky breaths. He looked up just in time to see a foot coming forward. Everything turned black.

Xxxxxxxxxx

A thin man dressed in black suit walked down a long passage, each step was exactly the same distance, as each step was taken with precision and accuracy. As each step was taken, the soles of black leather shoes clicked on the marbled floor, alerting whoever might be listening, of the man's presence. A small vibration from his left coat pocket made him momentarily pause. Slim pale fingers quickly found the device and emerald eyes scanned the message. The man nodded to himself, resuming his measured walk, but changing directions.

After walking silently for five minutes, the man reached a pair of large oak doors. Eyes glanced at the time, it was late, but this was important information. Without hesitation, pale knuckles knocked twice onto the wooden doors, waiting patiently for an answer.

"Enter." Came a firm voice from the other side.

Doors were quickly pushed opening, the petite man once inside, approached the figure sitting behind a large mahogany desk. Without a sound, he gracefully lowered himself to one knee, bowing his head to the man in front of him. "Sir."

"What is it?"

The pale man raised his head, "I am here to report that Grimmjow Jeagerjaques has been successfully detained and is currently on route."

Passive green eyes watched the man behind the mahogany desk smile, "Excellent. You know what to do Ulquiorra."


	6. A Reputation Never Dies

**A/N:** Finally an update, and I am pleased to say that I've gotten the help of a beta, and it really has paid off. (:  
>I don't know how I missed some of the mistakes I made.<p>

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 6<strong>

Ichigo typed away on his mac, every now and then looking over at the various papers that were littering his desk. After fifteen minutes, the orange haired man glanced over to the clock that hung on his wall.

3.48

Tick

Tock

He frowned, losing his concentration. Not that he particularly cared, but he was beginning to worry about his friend. Sighing, Ichigo went back to typing in a report for the latest set of unexplained robberies. This time it was a small department store that had been open for at least 10 years. They had lost over 4,000 thousand dollars. How? Well, if the police knew that then he wouldn't exactly be writing this god damn report.

The orange haired man glanced up at the clock.

3.49

Ichigo looked back down at his papers. There wasn't really any real reason for him to be worried, Grimmjow had told him that he was spending the night with a girl, that's what the guy code was for. He bit his lip, not that his friend was a complete bastard, but Grimmjow never spent this long with a chick. He'd always be back before lunch, not so much as talking about his night. Sometimes, he even forgot their names by the time he came back. Alright, so maybe his friend _was_ a complete bastard.

Then again, Grimmjow wasn't exactly acting like himself lately. Ichigo had seen his friend on the way to the bathroom teary eyed yesterday. It was obvious he was hiding something, it didn't take a genius to figure that out. The orange haired man had noticed the changes straight away, how reserved his friend had become, how he always thrashed around in his sleep, how he hardly went out, and how he never so much as looked at girls. Sure, he'd make a comment now and then, but it wasn't the same. Ichigo had no idea who destroyed his friends' life, but he was going to find out. And the orange haired man was going to have the pleasure of putting them behind iron clad bars preferably, for life.

_I'm on a Highway to Hell! Highway to-_

It took a minute for Ichigo to realise the sudden noise was his phone. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checked the caller ID - which flashed '_Renji' _- and hit the answer button.

"Hey man. Whatsup?"

"_Yo, how many aspirin do you think I'll need to get rid of a fuckin' hangover?_"

Ichigo snorted, "The hangover will go away man, but how many aspirin do you need to get rid of your stupid?"

There was a small laugh on the other side, "_Hey, I'd have all those drinks all over again, cus they were free and came with a show. Never knew you could dance like that bro."_

The orange haired man frowned, "Shut up. I should've known you guys were tag teaming me. Assholes."

"_Dude, not our fault you can't hold your liquor._"

"I'm hanging up now."

"_You do that, and bring some aspirin down to HQ._"

Ichigo slunk back in his chair, "What happened now?" Could he not get a break?

The man's voice on the other line turned serious, "_Dunno, but it's big." _

"How big?"

"_All units are being called down man."_

_Shit_. "I'll see you there."

Without waiting for his friend to reply, the orange haired man ended the call, quickly grabbing a few files and his mac. Shoving them into his bag, Ichigo then went to medicine cabinet for the bottle of aspirin. Renji's not the only one who'd be needing them today. He looked back at the clock, not forgetting about Grimmjow. The guy still hadn't turned up and it was nearly five.

Ignoring his gut, Ichigo shook his head and shoved the feeling aside. His friend would be fine, who took on Grimmjow without being beaten to a pulp? Besides if he called, the blue haired guy was just going to blow up in his face, and he didn't have time for a massive argument. He had work to do. This could be a good sign, if Grimmjow was finally showing a girl some affection. Nothing to get worked up about.

Just as the police officer reached the door, he looked back at the clock one more time, _after work_, he decided. After work if his friend still wasn't back home, Ichigo would call. Just to check up on him. With that thought, the orange haired man left the apartment. Besides, it all depended on _when_ he finished with work.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Grimmjow gained conscious gradually, he blinked slowly, and darkness was all he saw. Pitch black. He closed his eyes again, and let out a shaky breath, taking in more as the haze slowly lifted from his mind. His first thought was pain. His head ached, a soreness that made his ears ring. He focused on his breathing. In_. _Out_._ It helped him focus his thoughts slightly, enough to take in his surroundings. He was sitting on something hard, a little chilly, most likely a floor. He was leaning against something cold, circular, digging into his shoulder blades, definitely not a wall, a pole perhaps.

His still muddled conscious urged Grimmjow to find out where he was, but the blue haired man couldn't seem to answer the question. He was positive this was not his friend's apartment. Then he remembered. It was that bitch! Whatever the hell her name was. Shit, what weird ass problem did he get himself into this time?

Grimmjow sat in silence waiting as the initial haze finally cleared, and began to feel the real pain creep into his limbs. His arms had been pulled behind the pole, held together by heavy handcuffs; Grimmjow pulled at it, the two metals hit each other causing a loud _clank _to echo through the room. The man could feel the beginnings of blisters forming on his wrists where the metal cut into them. Grimmjow's legs were left free, lying in front of him, he tried to move his right leg, it barely budged an inch; his body was utterly sluggish, not willing to listen to him.

He flexed his fingers, the only part of him that he had any sort of control over. Grimmjow had given up on his breathing, letting the adrenaline pump through his veins. If he wanted to get out of here, he needed to be on his physical high. For that he needed his blood throbbing, his heart pounding, hammering away inside him. His instincts led him in fights, and Grimmjow was beginning to think there wasn't going to be chance for him to run.

Whatever that bitch wanted, she would eventually come to him. And when she did, Grimmjow would fight.

All he could do now was sit and fucking _wait_.

After some time had passed—Grimmjow couldn't begin to guess how long—he heard a door open, then footsteps. Someone was descending stairs nearby. Another door, that someone was now in the same room. The blue haired man struggled to see who it was, his eyes finding it difficult adjust to the light as quickly as he wanted them to, and all he could make out was a black smudge against a yellow background.

He blinked, repeatedly. Hoping it would help.

The footsteps became louder as the person inched closer. "Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."

A chill passed through Grimmjow at the person's voice, that cold, ruthless voice. He didn't need his eyes to recognise who this person was. After all, he'd spent years working under him. Jutting his chin out, the blue haired man let a hiss escape his throat, "Ulquiorra."

Green eyes starred down at him, "You have not changed."

"The fuck I haven't." Grimmjow leaned forward, making the handcuffs dig further into his wrists, narrowing his eyes, "You sent that bitch, didn't ya?"

The pale man didn't reply.

Grimmjow felt his anger rise, violently pulling at his wrists, he tried to stand, shouting, his voice hoarse, "Fucking _answer_ me you son of a bitch!"

Ulquiorra titled his head ever so slightly, "Why do you fight?"

The question made Grimmjow pause momentarily, "What?"

"It will not change your fate."

The blue haired man pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the pole, his breaths still heavy and laboured, "Let me make one thing clear shithead-"

His voice was cut by a loud bang inches away from his left ear and blue eyes widened, looking over to see the hole formed in the wall behind him by the bullet, dust flying from the impact. Grimmjow looked back at the Ulquiorra, who hadn't seemed to have moved an inch. He didn't even have a gun in his hand. In fact, the man seemed a little annoyed, not that it showed on his face, but Grimmjow could tell by his stiff posture. Pale fingers wiped the dust from the shoulder of his dark suit. Emerald eyes continued looking at the blue haired man, "You acted without authorisation, Luppi."

A laugh that floated into the room, it from the stairs. Even with adjusted eyes, the blue haired man couldn't see the person. He snarled at the mocking laughter echoing in his ears. "Keep laughing and I'll fucking rip your balls off." He spat the words in disgust, pulling at his cuffs. How dare they laugh at him? _Nobody_ shoots at Grimmjow like that.

"He's cute Ulquiorra, where'd you find him?" Came the same voice - feminine, but not a woman's. The blue haired man's eyes watched a slim figure make its way down the steps. The boy named Luppi was at least a head shorter than Grimmjow, he couldn't have been older than nineteen. His black hair was short, and unevenly cut. The boy had a pink tattoo above his left eyebrow, and if that wasn't odd enough, he also wore lavender contacts. He was dressed in simple black jeans, with a matching shirt, only the sleeves seemed just a little bit too long, making him appear even younger.

Ulquiorra shifted to glance back at the newcomer, his voice as calm as ever, "Luppi I do not recall your presence being requested."

The little man smiled, cocking his head to the side, "Sorry." But something in his tone said that he by no means felt that way. He lifted his right hand, Grimmjow tensed, it was holding the gun. "But Gin thought you'd need some help," He smiled, "Whether you wanted it or not."

The name suddenly made the blue haired man nervous, talk about getting orders from the higher ups.

Blue eyes flickered between the two men in front of him. He could use this to his advantage, it was clear that Ulquiorra was the stronger of the two, but he couldn't underestimate the kid. All Grimmjow needed was one fight, a way to weaken at least one of them. Shifting his weight to his functional foot, the blue haired man snorted, "You really dropped in the ranks, huh Ulquiorra? Getting bossed around by some punk ass kid."

Emerald locked with blue, unconcealed anger present within usually calm eyes. The pale man took a step forward, his face inches away from Grimmjow, "Do not speak of ranks to me. Did you think we would not learn of your disloyalty?" A thin hand firmly wrapped itself around Grimmjow's throat, making the blue haired man snarl, kicking his foot out. He struggled against the grip, like hell he needed to be lectured about loyalty, not by anybody, especially not by this freak. In a blink of an eye, Ulquiorra was standing a few feet away, fixing the cuffs of his suit, his voice as neutral as ever, "You're nothing, Jeagerjaques. Nothing but a piece of trash-" He paused, pale fingers pulled out a small phone from his left breast pocket. Reading the message, Ulquiorra turned to the teen who was standing by the door, "I must leave. You know what to do."

The black haired boy nodded, still smiling. He watched as the pale man walked over to the stairs, climbing the steps. He paused at the top step, not turning around but simply calling out, "Under no circumstances are you permitted to use that gun." He left without waiting for a reply, clearly believing his word was final.

"Got it." Luppi walked to Grimmjow, watching him silently, gun in hand. Inches away, he looked up at the blue haired man, tilting his head to the side.

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at the boy, "What you looking at?"

Luppi smiled, "You're the famous Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, huh? You've got _quite_ the reputation."

The blue haired man snarled. Pulling himself forward, he spat at the other. Luppi moved back, but not quick enough, some of it falling onto his shoes.

Luppi, who seemed to have enjoyed the little encounter, laughed hysterically. He raised his leg, his knee slamming into Grimmjow's stomach.

The blue haired man widened his eyes, and hunched forward, trying to breathe. Something cold pressed against his hair, looking up, Grimmjow found himself staring down the barrel of the gun. Luppi's hand never wavering, "I could shoot you right here and no one would care."

Blue stared at lavender, and before he could stop himself, Grimmjow laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. This made Luppi narrow his eyes, and tighten his grip. He snarled, "I'll do it, I'm not scared of Ulquiorra."

Grimmjow shook his head, blue locks falling in front of his face, "I'm sure you ain't. But," he looked at the boy, a grin spreading across his face, "I ain't scared of dying kid, cus' people stopped giving a fuck about me a _long_ time ago." The grin widened as he watched a frown appear on the boys face.

After minutes of silence, Luppi pulled out a small key from his pocket, "I have to take you to your room." He raised the gun, "One wrong move and I shoot."

xxxxxxxxxx

Ichigo shifted in his seat, casting a quick glance across the room. Renji had been right about one thing, it had been something big. All thirteen units had been called in, which was something that hardly ever happened. Brown eyes looked up at Byakuya, standing at the front, still wearing his bullet vest over his white shirt. He was going over case details, once again, his hands every now and then pointing to the evidence board behind him, his tone never changing. The orange haired man bit back another yawn. Sometimes he wished he had a different job. _Sometimes_.

"Dawon Ltd. lost over 15 thousand dollars in various assets, over a span of two months." He paused as Renji put his hand up.

"I ain't trying to be a spoilsport of nothing sir, but we kinda already know all this."

The superior nodded, "I know, but some new information has arisen which might prove to be a lead."

Ichigo chose to speak up, "And that evidence is?"

"Dawon was expanding its business into _other_ markets." He paused, "More specifically, it was said to have becoming big competition for a company called Moon Inc."

Every officer in the room stiffened, tension filling the room. The Moon Inc. was one of several multi-million companies that were owned by an elite business by the name of Sosuke Aizen. The man was highly respected, and feared. No one would ever want to be an enemy of this man. The fact that the police were considering him as a potential suspect would give the media a field day, and ruin the reputation of the police department.

Renji was the first to break the suffocating silence, "What're you trying to imply sir?"

"Nothing, for now." The man straightened his crisp white cuff, "Alright, I want units 6 and 13 to look into the background of the previous businesses. See if there were any similarities as this one, even if it is the tiniest detail, I want to hear about it." Byakuya waited for all the people to jot down the information into their notebooks. "Units 9 and 11, go over all the companies records, again. Look at their sales records, of both consumer products and supplier invoices. I want to know exactly where every penny was spent. Check if they had any unusual drops or increases in their sales.

Now, I want to make this absolutely clear, not a word of this will be repeated outside of this room." Everyone nodded, "Sosuke Aizen is being put under surveillance, as a prospective lead of this investigation." He gave everyone one hard glare, "Units 10 and 12, this will be left up to you. Anyone seen interacting or associating with him will automatically become potential leads as well, understand?" Once again, everyone in their respective units nodded. The superior sighed, "Meeting dismissed. Good luck everyone."

Just as they started to get up to leave, Ichigo packed his bag, walking over to Renji. "Aizen huh? What d'you think?"

The red head shrugged, "I dunno man, I mean everyone knows he deals under the table, but actually tagging him? We're gonna get our asses kicked by the papers."

"That's cus everyone is scared of him. Maybe this could be our shot to bring him down."

Renji snorted, "Yea right." He picked up his bag, "Anyway I'll see ya later, gonna go home and try and go over some of those files, or get some sleep."

Ichigo nodded, "See ya later." He made his way to the door, eager to get back to home for some sleep. The orange haired man checked his watch, it was nearly ten at night. He wondered if Grimmjow would be back yet.


	7. The Fight Never Ends

**A/N: **So, I've finally been able to update this story, but it's taken some time because I've had exams, and a little bit of writers block. But I'm glad to say, the plot is really going to pick up from now on. And, I'd appreciate whatever feedback you guys have to give, like what you think about this so far. But here it is, enjoy (:

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 7<strong>

_Grimmjow looked down at his bike. He was going to kill Loly! That little bitch had totally messed it up on purpose. How the hell was he supposed to go out in public with it looking like it that? The engine was all rusty, with a dent in its side. The paint was faded and chipping off at certain places, with dried residue of dirt and grime all over it. Blue eyes scanned the piece of crap, he was pretty sure Ulquiorra would throw a hissy fit if he went to the warehouse meeting in it. The freak was always going on about the appearance of the organisation. Bull. Shit. _

_The blue haired man sighed, it was about time he bought a new bike, and replaced this one. He had bought it while he was still at college. It was the only one he could afford, but he remembered bragging about the bike to Ilforte, and Ichigo. Grimmjow clenched his fists, not wanting to think about his friends. He hadn't spoken to the two of them for months, he wondered how they were doing. _

"_What you thinking about tiger?" A soft voice called out. _

_Grimmjow looked back at Nel and grinned, "Just what my friends would say if they saw what I've done to my girl." _

_The woman laughed, coming up next to the man, leaning against him, "Hmmm, it's not so bad. All it needs is a good wash and wax."_

"_Yea, did I mention I got a job tomorrow?" _

_Nel gently held Grimmjow's hand, looking up at him, "Well I don't know about you, but I love a challenge." _

_A grin spread across the blue haired man's face, "Baby you have no idea how much that turns me on." He came forward to place a kiss on the woman's forehead. _

"_Hey!" She pushed lightly at his chest, "Not here, someone will see."_

_Grimmjow laughed, but stopped nonetheless. Truth be told, there was no way in hell either of them wanted the higher-ups finding out about their relationship. It was strictly forbidden, and neither wanted to find out the consequence. It was bad enough being trapped in this group, but it was worse if you attracted attention to yourself. Especially from one man in particular, the rumours were enough for Grimmjow. _

_By the time the two had finished working on the battered bike, it looked brand new. The engine was replaced with a new one, the silver sparkling. The tires hosed down and polished, and a fresh coat of wax bringing the midnight ink back to life. All in all, the machine looked absolutely stunning. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and whistled, "Not bad eh?"_

_The green haired woman wiped the grease from her fingers onto her jeans as she looked at the bike, tilting her head, "I dunno, I still think it's missing something."_

_Grimmjow yawned, "Yea well it's clean so fuck it. I'm tired, I'm gonna take a nap." _

_Nel smiled at him, "Go ahead. I'll finish up."_

_The blue haired man turned to leave, but as he reached the door he looked back and saw her pick up a couple of small brushes, and white paint. Curious, he paused by the door watching her. The way she dipped the brush into the paint, and lifted it back up. Nel ran it along the back of the bike, stroke by stroke. Grimmjow was mesmerised by the woman in front of him, everything about her. The way her hair had been tied up with strands falling everywhere, the way she had stuck her tongue out to concentrate, her delicate fingers as they guided the brush. _

_The blue haired man stayed there for hours, sitting on the floor watching the woman in front of him, every moment, seeing the picture taking shape. To him it was a masterpiece. Every now and then Nel would pull back to see how it looked. Once satisfied, she would once again lean forward, brush in hand. When the green haired woman finished, she dropped the brushed and rubbed her aching neck. Hazel eyes locked with blue, as if only just noticing Grimmjow. She pointed to the bike, "What do you think? Like it?"_

_He grinned, "I think I've just fallen for my girl all over again."_

_Nel laughed looking down at the newly painted white panther draped across the back of the bike, she reached out her fingers to touch the feline but stopped knowing it was still wet. _

_Grimmjow got up from the floor, only to walk over to the bike. Kneeling down he got a closer look at the animal poised for attack. "I guess this one's a rebel huh? What's she fighting for?" _

_Nel's voice echoed through the room, "Everything."_

Something wet and cold hit Grimmjow like a ton of bricks. Blue eyes snapped open, a snarl escaping his mouth. He shot up from his bed, his heart pounding. "Fuck!" He looked up to see a grinning Luppi standing by the edge of his bed, a bucket in one hand, a pile of clothes in another.

"_Sorry_." He dropped the bucket, "You weren't moving, I thought you were dead."

The blue haired man glared at the kid. "Do that one more time, and we'll see which one of us is breathing after that." He sighed as he looked down at his shirt, it was soaking wet making it stick to his skin. He glanced back up at Luppi, severely pissed off, "What you want?"

The teen's grin widened, "Well, aren't you going to take it off? You'll catch a cold like that."

Grimmjow scowled, "Listen up faggot, I don't swing that way. You want action, go screw someone else."

A gun was pulled out, "Even if I say please?"

The blue haired man didn't move an inch, he was not scared of some kid. He dropped his feet to the ground, and sat up straight, looking Luppi straight in the eye. "I thought we went through this kiddo. If you wanna shoot me, I ain't stopping you."

"Luppi."

Grimmjow glanced back at Ulquiorra by the door, apparently this kid really liked to push buttons. He was honestly surprised how his ex-superior hadn't beaten the shit outta the punk. Even Grimmjow hadn't been that bad. And he got his ass _kicked_ by the emotionally-stunted freak every time he opened his mouth. Grimmjow let out a yawn, "You guys must really be fucked up if you're coming to me for company." He could feel the tension build in the small white room.

Emerald eyes starred at Grimmjow, "Your presence is needed. Get dressed, and Luppi will escort you. You have 20 minutes." He turned to leave, but paused, his cold voice carried through the room, "It is time to pay for your betrayal." With that he left, leaving Grimmjow alone with Luppi, who looked like he was making no move to leave. The young man threw the clothes at Grimmjow, who caught them easily.

He smiled, "Well then, we haven't got all day."

Blue eyes narrowed at the fucked up kid. Grimmjow stood, pulling the wet shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. He looked back at Luppi, waiting to see what the faggot wanted.

Luppi seemed to do a quick once over of his chest. He pursed his lips, then looked at Grimmjow smiling, "I thought for sure you'd have one." He laughed, "Guess I was worried for nothing." Luppi turned, heading for the door, "I'll be waiting outside, give me a call when you're done." He left just as Ulquiorra had.

The blue haired man frowned, what was talking about? Have what? Sighing he looked around his small room, knowing the layout by heart. All the dorms were the same, pristine white walls, basic furniture, with a connected bath and closet. Lack of any colour, and a lack of life. That's what would happen to your personality if you stayed in this line of work for too long. You'd lose yourself and become just another piece to be used.

He looked down at his wrinkled jeans, they were the same ones he had worn to the club, and had a slight stench to them. Grimmjow stripped out of them, picking up the clothes that were left for him. A pair of faded jeans, and a dark shirt. He changed in silence, preparing himself for what was going to happen. After Luppi had brought him up to the room yesterday, Grimmjow had been locked in with no food or a second look. He knew how it worked, it all happened according to the orders from the higher ups, from _him_. This meeting was bound to happen, sooner or later. Traitors were dealt with in two ways, either you keep them starved, hungry, ready to beg and scream. That was for the ones that were meant to return to work after being taught with lesson. Those cases took weeks, everybody making bets on when the poor sucker would break. Then there was the second way.

The ones that were dealt with quickly, the ones that weren't needed anymore. Grimmjow finished changing, standing in front of the mirror barefoot. He looked back at his reflection, seeing a man with a resolved expression. Kept for a day or two, treat them well enough to make them think they had a chance. Take them to a secluded room and blow their brains out. That's how things worked. Blue eyes hardened, adrenaline beginning to rise, Grimmjow exhaled. This was it, everything would be falling into place today, but there was no way in hell was he going down without a fight.

He walked to the door, banging on it, knowing it would be locked. A click was heard, and Luppi opened it. He ran his eyes over the blue haired man once, and smirked, "I think I prefer you topless."

Grimmjow snarled, reaching forward, he slammed the smaller man into the wall, "You better watch that fucking mouth of yours" He leaned forward, towering over the other, "Before I rip it out."

Luppi widened his eyes, but to Grimmjow's surprise, he chuckled at the bigger man. He quickly gripped Grimmjow's hand, twisted his own body, kicking his foot out. The blue haired man let go and moved back to avoid being knocked over, but Luppi slipped out the hold, and elbowed him in the stomach. Before Grimmjow could react, Luppi slid his arm around the blue haired man's neck, pulling him down. He whispered, "We're going to be late." Grimmjow growled, holding on to the punks hair, he gripped the kids leg and lifted Luppi in the air. Then dropped him on the floor. The bigger man lifted his foot to smash it on the freak's face, but just as quickly, Luppi rolled over.

Grimmjow moved forward, but the young man pushed himself up from the floor. Luppi pulled out a silver gun from its holster. Lavender eyes gleamed, the same smile plastered on his face, "Guess I can see where you got that reputation from." He grinned at Grimmjow's reaction, "Well then, come on."

Blue eyes narrowed, Grimmjow was breathing heavily, his body was still pretty sluggish or he seemed to be losing his touch. The little fucker wasn't that strong, but was quick as hell. How did he move like that? He scoffed, straightening up, it was alright, he prayed to god he got to have a rematch. And if he did, he was going to pound the shit out of the cocky brat.

Grimmjow followed the smaller man through the corridors. After they passed a few more, a sickening realisation gripped the man. He recognised the bare hallways, he knew where he was. And he knew where they were going. Shit. Grimmjow slowed his breathing down, calming his nerves. This was _not_ how things worked, nobody ever took this route. This was bad, real bad. Grimmjow felt his heart quicken, hammering away inside him.

The two stopped outside a pair of large oak doors. Luppi faked a long yawn, "Well I'm beat. Guess you'll have to go on without me." He stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to lift above the hem of his jeans. Grimmjow got a glimpse of a tattoo on the kids' hip, but didn't get a good enough look to make out what it was. Luppi caught the glance and grinned. He then opened the door, and gestured for the other to enter.

_This is it_. Grimmjow squared out his shoulders, and held his head up high, ready to face the man waiting on the other side. The office was just he remembered it, large, dark and suffocating. The expensive furniture was kept to a minimum, focusing all the attention onto the large mahogany desk placed in the centre of the room. There was a large leather chair behind it, which currently had its back to Grimmjow and was facing the large painting of a desert landscape that hung on the wall. The blue haired man's feet made no noise as he walked across the soft carpeted floor.

He stopped in front of the table, waiting. He knew the other man had sensed his presence, and he knew the current game, to make sure one understood that you never worth the big man's time. _Well fuck that_ thought Grimmjow, coughing loudly, disrupting the silence of the room. He was through playing games.

"Impatient as always." A deep voice echoed.

Hearing that man's voice made Grimmjow feel very conscious, it was like nothing had changed. Here he was, answering to this son of bitch. The thought made anger rise within Grimmjow. After everything that had happened, he was still back to fucking square one. The chair in front of him began to turn, and blue eyes narrowed. It had been two years since Grimmjow had seen Sosuke Aizen, but those eyes had not changed. Those cold, calculating eyes. Which were currently watching him very closely, examining him. Grimmjow stared back, not daring to break eye contact. He'd stopped playing good little subordinate a long time ago, now, he had nothing to lose. The one thing he fought to protect had already been taken from him.

The corner of Grimmjow's lip lifted, his face transforming into a snarl. "Sorry to fucking disappoint."

The man behind the desk locked his fingers together, letting his chin rest upon them. His eyes had not once shifted from Grimmjow, as though he were searching for something. Minutes passed in silence, neither man making a sound. Aizen pulled back, leaning comfortably in his chair, "Well, was it worth it?"

Grimmjow frowned, clearly confused, "What?"

Aizen narrowed his eyes, "Ratting out your comrades like you did, and to those little police friends of all people. Yet, here you are, standing exactly where you were two years ago. So tell me Grimmjow, was it worth it in the end? "

The words were a blow to the blue haired man, hitting something inside him, in that moment Grimmjow had never felt so helpless before. They were true, all the bullshit he had gone through, the sacrifices he had made, and for what? A mixture of feelings swirled inside Grimmjow, but one over powered them all. Anger. Clenching his fists, Grimmjow took a step forward, his voice low, and dangerous, "Yes. Yes, it _was_ worth it. You know why?" He slammed his hands on the table, baring his teeth at the sadistic man in front of him, "Because it meant getting away from you...And I'd do it all over again."

Grimmjow had expected anger, and resentment, considering he had been branded a traitor. But, what he did not expect was Aizen to be sitting there, smiling at him, mockery set in his features. Caution swelled up inside Grimmjow, his mind scolding him for not keeping his mouth shut.

Aizen came forward, and it took every ounce of will power within Grimmjow to stay still. He would not move back, that was a sign of weakness. And he was _not_ scared of this man, not anymore. Aizen's voice was soft, "Oh Grimmjow, what are we going to do?" The blue haired man watched Aizen gently trace his knuckles with his finger.

That was not normal. Aizen was a man of words, those were his weapons. Hell, Grimmjow couldn't even recall a time when the man had actually touched another person. Every fibre in his body told the blue haired man to step away, that Aizen was not acting normally. And unpredictability, Grimmjow had learned, was lethal. Glancing back up, he noticed Aizen watching him, waiting for a reaction, almost challenging him for one.

Grimmjow stayed where he was, ignoring the sudden chill that seemed to have spread through the room. A familiar grin spread across his features, "Down to business then. Who's gonna get the honour of blowing my brains out?"

The cold finger continued to trace an idle pattern, now reaching Grimmjow's wrist. Brown eyes locked with blue, "It seems you are confused. Is that why you thought I brought you here?" Aizen let a small laugh escape his lips. The sound made bile rise in Grimmjow's throat, "My dear boy, if I wanted you dead, I'd have at least spared my carpet."

A snarl escaped Grimmjows throat, as he viciously snatched his hand back, "Then why the fuck am I here?"

Brown eyes narrowed, "Because," his voice dropped, "I did not give you permission to leave. I require your specific set of skills. Vacation time is over."

This time it was Grimmjow's turn to laugh, as he took a step back, "Are you even paying attention? I quit. So, fuck yo-"

"Enough." The words were cold, just like the man who said them. Grimmjow glanced back to Ulquiorra wondering when he had turned up and how he hadn't managed to make a single sound. There was no way he would have dared to enter the office without permission. So the question was, how was he called? And why?

"Why must you be so difficult?" Aizen stood, fixing the cuffs of his white suit. He slowly came around the table, towards Grimmjow.

Grimmjow tried to move back but as he shifted his foot, he heard the distinct click of a gun. Blue eyes glanced back at Ulquiorra who now had a barrel aimed straight at his leg. _Shit_. Aizen may not want him dead, but apparently had no qualms about leaving him immobile. Grimmjow had no choice but to stare back at powerful man. Even as he drew closer, those brown eyes never wavered from their target.

Aizen came to stop right in front of Grimmjow, standing only a few inches taller. But even that made all the difference as he looked down upon his stubborn employee, "Are you sure I cannot persuade you to stay in anyway? I dislike using violence, it is uncalled for."

"Funny, that doesn't stop you using it douchebag." Grimmjow tried not to flinch as fingers seemed to place themselves in his hair, his mind still focused on the gun aimed at him. "Nothing you say will change my mind."

A smile seemed to grace Aizen's features, the sight unnerved Grimmjow. The fingers moved, to the base of his neck. His hair was harshly tugged back, exposing his neck. A murmur, "That's a shame." Blue eyes widened as he felt a smooth lips place themselves at his shoulder.

"The _fuck_?" He tried to pull back, but the fingers tugged again, a warning. A thumb edged its way across Grimmjow's hip, pressing painfully into his skin. He didn't know what to do, or how to react. The lips moved upwards, underneath his chin, sliding across to his jaw. It took him a moment, but Grimmjow found his voice, and it sounded angry, "If these were the skills you were hoping for, then I'd rather shoot myself."

A vibration rumbled along his jaw, Aizen had chuckled, lips moving slowly, up towards the shell of his ear, "Oh Grimmjow," the breath was hot against his skin, and Grimmjow wanted to rip it off. "What about your dear Ichigo?"

The name made Grimmjow freeze, a chill spreading through him. He jerked his head back, blue eyes narrowed at brown, "Leave him out of this." He knew what that was, a warning, and a lifeline. If Grimmjow still refused, he knew pleasant things were not in store for his friend. He had to think carefully, something was off here. The second chance, the touches, all of it. Grimmjow wasn't stupid, he knew whatever was in store for him, was very bad.

"Such fascinating eyes. What are you thinking?" Aizen seemed amused, "Is something wrong?"

"If you touch him, I swear I'll -"

"I won't have to, not if you return." He took a step forward, his hands already reaching for blue hair, pulling their faces close, brown eyes darkening, "Did you think it would be that easy. Running away?"

A snarl, "_Hell_ no, but it wasn't going to stop me, I wasn't scared. Not of you."

Grimmjow watched as that ugly smirk formed spread across Aizen's face, promising terrible things, "Oh Grimmjow," his voice had dropped to a whisper, "I always enjoy a challenge." In an instant, Aizen pulled back, his cold eyes regarding the man in front of him, "Well, what is your answer?"

Grimmjow ignored the pumping of his blood, the adrenaline rising, his body screaming flight or even fight. Just to do _something_! He straightened up, clearing his thoughts. He wasn't going to be stupid, Ichigo came first, especially after everything he had done for Grimmjow. He was going to fix this shit. Blue eyes hardened, he was going to get revenge, for Nel. "I'll fight every step of the way." He warned. "You can hold a gun to me every second, but fuck am I going to fight. You don't own me."

Aizen waved his hand, and in a split second, Grimmjow felt his arms pulled back, something cold pressed up against his back. But blue eyes did not move away from brown. Aizen tilted his head, smiling "It would be boring of you didn't. Ulquiorra take him back, I have work to do."

And without another word, the pair of men left the room, one silent, the other snarling and swearing.


	8. Dealing With The Devil

**A/N: **Well, hello everyone! Most of you probably think I have abandoned this story, but that's not true! School's just been really hectic, and I really want to prove to you I'm not dead! My birthday was a few days ago, and I spent it writing this chapter! So I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think! Reviews are my muse (:

Also, I wanted to post this as quickly as possible, so I haven't had a chance to properly proof read this, so if you could excuse any errors in this chapter.

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 8<strong>

Ichigo wasn't even angry at Grimmjow anymore. He scowled at the papers scattered at his desk. He was _furious_. It had been three days, and he still hadn't been able to get in contact with the blue haired idiot. Well, at least not in person. He had called a few times, but the same chick kept answering. Franceska. She had laughed and told him that Grimmjow was pre-occupied. And Ichigo did _not_ need her to elaborate. He got the innuendo.

Alright, so maybe he wasn't mad at the fact he hadn't been able to talk to his friend in person. He was mad at the fact that Grimmjow had ditched him for a chick. A chick he had met while drunk. He was sick and tired of Grimmjow using girls, alcohol, and fists for forgetting his problems. Ichigo had seen how upset his friend had been before they had left for the club. He knew this was a way of dealing for Grimmjow. Didn't mean it was a good one.

Especially since it had barely been three weeks since Grimmjow had been out of prison. Who knew what had happened in those two years. Shit. Ichigo felt so bad, he had promised his friend that he wasn't going to get put in there. It just showed how much of a failure Ichigo was. He hadn't kept his word, and that was unacceptable, he felt like he had let his friend down in some big way.

Sighing, Ichigo took a sip of his coffee. The hot liquid was soothing to his throat. He needed it seeing as this was going to be another all night. Yawning, he glanced at his watch, which informed him it was nearing midnight. The orange haired officer opened a new folder. It held pictures, pictures of a very influential business man. Sosuke Aizen was a very busy man indeed. Always on the move, course, that implied other things too. He wasn't exactly part of the surveillance team, but he had convinced Hitsugaya to forward whatever they got. That guy was like a kid sometimes, stubbornly refusing at first.

Brown eyes examined the picture, one in which Aizen had been walking out of a building flanked by his guards, blocking off the crowd of people that had gathered. The picture was slightly pixelated, having been taken from a distance, and not by a very good lense. Ichigo's eyes narrowed when he spotted a vague figure at the back of the crowd, nearly covered by the mass of people. Nearly. He knew who that was, but what the hell were they doing there?

Ichigo reached across the desk, pulling a single sheet out of a small pile. Brown eyes moved across the page, scanning the names on it. About halfway down, he took in a breath, he was right! That was exactly who he thought it was. And he bet headquarters would want to know about this.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out his phone, flipping it open. He wanted to run this through with Renji first. He didn't want to go to Byakuya with something they already knew. Everyone was frustrated enough, no one needed to be told the same thing twice. The already stern superior was easily irritated these days.

_I'm on a highway to hell!_

The orange haired man jumped, taking a moment to realise it was his phone was ringing. The caller ID flashing _Grimmjow_ – Ichigo was honestly shocked, but hit the answer button without a second thought. The smile on his face appearing after a long time.

"Well what do you know? It's the big man himself. I was beginning to think that chick had kidnapped you."

A snort was heard over the line, "_Yea, well I knew you were probably getting your panties in a twist cus I hadn't called._"

Ichigo scowled, "Fuck you."

"_Aww, missed you too baby._"

Laughing, Ichigo shook his head, glancing back at his watch, "You coming home now shithead, or are you going to spend another night with Franceska?"

There was a small pause, and a stretched sigh, "_Listen man, I don't know._"

"It wasn't a very difficult question, even with your IQ."

"_I ain't staying with her, but...I don't want to be a free loader either._"

The orange haired man sighed, "Listen Grimmjow we've been through this. You can crash at my place as long you want. I know I've been pretty busy with these homicide and robbery cases but you're not any trouble. It kinda reminds me of college."

Another snort, "_I recall our little sleepovers a little differently._"

"Yea, cus yours normally involved girls."

They both laughed. "_Look, I found a job, and I just want to try to stand on my own two feet again. Kinda get into a routine. You know I can't crash at your place forever. And I'll call so you won't get too lonely. I just...need a little independence._"

Ichigo couldn't argue with that logic, sighing, he took in a breath, "Alright man, I get you. Call me if you can't find a place, I'll help you look...And I was going to let you know that I've been talking to a few people of trying to get your file sealed. Nothing's been confirmed yet, but I'm definitely going to make sure it gets approved."

"_You're the best berry. I'll catch you later._"

Scowling Ichigo ended the call, without even responding the insult. Seriously, how the hell did that nickname catch on? One more reason he never introduced his friends to his dad anymore. That man could be so cruel.

The orange haired cop relaxed in his chair, almost like a burden had been erased from his shoulders. The moment didn't last too long, as he remembered what he'd been about to do before Grimmjow called. Scrolling through his contacts, he hit the green button at the name _Renji_. He waited as the dial tone played. After two minutes a voice could be heard on the other side.

"Hey man," Ichigo answered, "Listen, what exactly do you know about Baraggan Louisenbairn?"

There was a pause on the other side, "_The name does sound familiar. Why?"_

Ichigo skimmed his eyes over the paper once again, "His vintage wine store lost around fifteen thousand dollars worth of profit two months ago."

"_Ouch...I think he should try sticking to the cheap stuff next time._"

"Funny, now here's the interesting part." The orange haired man took another sip of coffee, "I'm looking at a picture of Aizen coming out of that Joint Venture Exhibition two weeks ago. And guess who seems to be on the guest list?"

"_Mr. Vintage?_"

Ichigo snorted, "Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner."

There was a shuffle of papers on the other side of the line, and Ichigo guessed he wasn't the only one on overtime. He kind of felt bad for his friend, Renji was always being supervised by Byakuya. He didn't know how the other man coped with all that pressure. "_Alright, let's see what we have here. The Joint Venture Exhibition is an innovative idea that has the potential to help smaller business target new markets with the financial help and expertise of more experienced sister firms. A brilliant economic aid created by the multi-talented Mr. Sosuke Aizen...Ugh, just what I enjoy, paragraphs of bullshit and jargon._" Another shuffle of papers, "_Wait a minute...Mr. Louisenbairn's name is not on the guest list. My friend, it looks like we have a party crasher on our hands._"

The orange haired cop nodded even though no one could see, "Exactly, and here's my favourite bit. Not even five days after the exhibition, a firm called Timeless Luxury lost over half their orders from high paying clients, and over fifty thousand dollars from their shares and profit."

"_Let me guess, it was the becoming stiff competition to Mr. Vintage?_"

"Yup, it happened right after they attended the Exhibition requesting a little investment to help win over Baraggan's clients and shareholders. It seems like one big coincidence."

"_You know what they say about coincidences._"

Brown eyes narrowed at the picture of Aizen that lay on the table, his voice guarded, "Yea, it takes a lot of planning."

Xxxxxxxxxx

As soon as the call had ended, Grimmjow felt his stomach churn uncomfortably. He was currently seated at a small table, he shifted his weight, trying to ease his sore hands, currently tied at the back of a wooden chair. Blue eyes glared at the other occupant in the small room, as they took in his conversation with Ichigo. The one that had been on loudspeaker.

Ulquiorra, who had been sitting opposite him on the table, starred at the phone placed at the centre of the wooden surface. As usual his face expressed nothing, the perfected poker face. But Grimmjow knew him better, he could see the tension in those shoulders, how tightly that fist was clenched, and how emerald eyes burned with concealed rage. The superior always hated Ichigo, hell anyone who was considered a remote threat to the almighty Aizen was disliked by Ulquiorra. Grimmjow almost snorted, what a suck up.

The blue haired man was getting impatient, mostly because his hands were beginning to go numb with the lack of circulation. "Are we done here? I did what you asked."

Emerald eyes regarded Grimmjow, "Do not act as though you have done us a favour. This was an order which you had to perform regardless of your will."

"Well, you've never really said please either."

Grimmjow had gotten use to Luppi answering back to Ulquiorra with no consequence. It was mainly because of that reason he did not expect Ulquiorra's reaction. Cold fingers were suddenly pressed against his throat. How the smaller man had moved so quickly, Grimmjow did not know. All he knew was that it had suddenly become a lot more difficult to breathe. He was seriously getting sick of it.

Ulquiorra starred at him, not moving for several minutes. Finally, a murmur escaping his lips, "I fail to understand his fascination."

It took a minute for Grimmjow's mind to make the connection. Ulquiorra was talking about Aizen. He closed his eyes. Guess he wasn't the only one who felt Aizen had become overly attached. This was not how traitors were dealt with, especially not after he had tried to bring that man down. Grimmjow had always found the way Aizen dealt with him strange. Throughout his time employed at this organisation, Grimmjow had been noisy and resistant to authority, but those piercing eyes never wavered. It was like Aizen enjoyed watching Grimmjow's rebellious attitude.

"Ulquiorra I would appreciate if you did not kill one of my best men."

Teal eyes snapped open. At the same time Ulquiorra pulled his hand back, standing up straight. Both men were surprised. Think of the devil, huh?

The pale man kneeled, his head bowed in respect, "Forgive me Sir, I had over stepped my boundaries."

Aizen nodded, "I do hope I will not be repeating myself a second time." He walked forward, stopping next to Grimmjow, who was currently glaring very intensely at the ground. "Did the phone call go as planned?"

Ulquiorra nodded, head still bowed, "Yes. Kurosaki did not suspect a thing, and it can be confirmed that he will not be interfering with Jeagerjaques's whereabouts."

"Excellent." Fingers slid into Grimmjow's hair.

Emerald eyes glanced at the action, but continued, "Though, new information has come to light which may be troubling to you Sir."

"Such as?" There was amusement in Aizen's voice, obviously not seeing Ichigo as any sort of threat.

"It seems he is investigating the recent robbery cases, and by my judgement, it is quite possible he has some involvement in the homicide cases as well."

"I see, that is quite-"

"Leave him the fuck alone! " Grimmjow snarled, cutting Aizen short, "I did what you asked. He's a cop, course he's going to deal with murders you stupid fuckers!"

The fingers in his hair curled tightly, harshly pulling his head back. His eyes narrowed at Aizen's. There he was standing in that fucking suit, acting like some sort of god. Brown eyes regarded him in amusement, like watching a guilty child.

Aizen did not break his gaze from Grimmjow, even as he called out to Ulquiorra, "You did well. Now will you kindly escort Mr. Jeagerjaques's here to my study. I wish to have a private word with him. " The pale man rose from the floor, and Aizen lips moved to form a cruel smile, letting go of Grimmjow's hair, "If you'll excuse me, I have to discuss this new information with Tousen."

Quietly, he turned walking towards the door of the tiny interview room. A click echoed, now leaving the two subordinates alone. Grimmjow silently fumed. That was uncalled for. He eyed Ulquiorra distastefully, not wanting to be caught off guard again. The smaller man moved silently, coming up behind him to undo the ropes around his wrists. The places where his fingers came in contact with Grimmjow's skin were ice cold. Like the man himself.

Once free, the blue haired man rotated his aching shoulders, bringing his hands in front of him, rubbing soothing circles to ease the circulation. He slowly stood, patting the dust off his dark jeans. He eyed his phone on the table, his thoughts on overdrive. So all those robberies that had been driving Ichigo to exhaustion was because of Aizen. He should've have known. Shit. He needed to find out why it was happening, and he'd have to find a way to let Ichigo know. Without anyone finding out of course, and before things got worse.

Yet, a part of him was scared, he didn't want things to turn bad, he wanted to protect his friend. But Grimmjow had never been very good at that apparently. Not to mention the fact he had just gotten out of prison, and now it was beginning to look like he could get thrown back in. Ichigo may have helped him out once, but he doubted it would be a repeating occurrence. The police would probably think he was willingly returning to this line of work. Grimmjow tried to think of all of Ichigo's recent homicide cases, apart from Di Roy's.

Realisation hit the blue haired man hard.

Di Roy. He had been killed by Aizen. Of _course_. How had he been so stupid?! The little punk had worked with Grimmjow for the last 4 years. After all, Di Roy was the one that Grimmjow had beaten the crap out of back in that stupid auto shop. Hitting his right eye with that lead pipe was not one of Grimmjow's better decisions. But then again, he never thought when he fought. A swirl of new emotions rose within the blue haired man, the understanding of his friend's death weighing down on him.

When he had seen the pictures back at Ichigo's place, it had just looked a little unreal, and knowing it was being investigated by the police, though he'd never openly admit it, it had given Grimmjow a little peace. Like the killers could be caught. Not now. Not when he knew just how elusive the killers were, and brutal. _Crap_. Why had they killed Di Roy?

"I am not allowed to disclose the answer to that question. You need not concern yourself with that piece of garbage." Ulquiorra answered.

Grimmjow looked back, and took a minute to realise he had asked that question aloud. A scowl settled onto his features. He took a step forward, course they all thought Di Roy was a low life. He was at the bottom of the food chain. But he was a good kid, always looking out for his family, his sick family. But no one cared. They saw a worthless fool, not someone who regularly talked of working his way up to power. Anger fuelled the blue haired man's words, "Shut the _fuck_ up. Don't you dare talk about him like that."

Emerald eyes glowed for the first time, "It is confusing...You are a man of such strong loyalties."

"What? You of all people should know about it. Little suck up."

Grimmjow had been watching Ulquiorra very closely, and that's why he managed to see the pale man move, allowing him to react. He dropped to the floor, kicking his foot out. Ulquiorra's fall was in no way close to normal, he simply glided towards the floor. Graceful little fucker. A pale hand gripped Grimmjow's ankle, a strong tug and he was pulled to the ground. Cold metal unexpectedly bit into his stomach. Shit. Guess Ulquiorra remembered Grimmjow's old injury, how thoughtful.

"It is confusing as to why you do not show the same loyalty to Master Aizen, always having to be forced like some animal."

Grimmjow sneered, "Is that what you call it? Loyalty? That man doesn't care about us, he doesn't care about _you_. You could die, and he wouldn't even flinch. We're all just his little soldiers. Do you really not see that?"

Ulquiorra obviously was hurt by the blue haired mans words, pressing the gun further into white shirt, evoking another animal like snarl. "You are gravely mistaken." Without another word, he pulled the man below him to his feet, pushing him harshly towards the door. "Walk."

That was that. Grimmjow may have brought out his superiors wrath, but he felt a little smug, being able to make Ulquiorra doubt Aizen like that, even if it was a split second. Maybe there was hope. He snorted, yea right, and pigs fly. It still made him think, did no one else see Aizen the way he did? Did no one else realise how insignificant they were? They were fools if they couldn't see the truth. Mindless little slaves were what they are. Too scared to be themselves.

Grimmjow internally flinched, even Di Roy had been like that at the start. Always following orders, but once Grimmjow had worked his way up the ranks, he took the punk under his wing, and made Di Roy open his eyes. Think on his own. Guilt began to build within the blue haired man. Was that why Di Roy had been killed? Because he said what he thought? Grimmjow felt responsible, he should've been there, protecting the youngster.

While the blue haired man had been so lost in his thoughts, Ulquiorra had somehow over taken him, leading the way. One would think they were in some sort of maze with the number of corridors. Nope, just one fucking manor estate. Aizen's of course, designed for his most trusted employees, allowing them to be near him at all times. It was on the deep outskirts of town, acres of gardens, private gyms, heated pools, and Grimmjow bet there was a panic room hidden away somewhere. Just another reason he hated the wealthy man, stuck up rich people. They wouldn't last more than two hours on the streets.

The blue haired followed Ulquiorra, walking quietly within the marbled hallways. They had entered the west wing, Grimmjow knew because the decor had changed, from marble to carpet, white walls turned to black, and the number of doors had dropped. They were walking to Aizen's personal chambers. Passing the double mahogany doors, they walked further down the hall.

They reached the end of the hallway, and Grimmjow could honestly say he had never been to this part of the estate, something he had been pretty proud of. He hadn't known it existed. There stood a pure white door, on its own. It didn't have a handle. A small black panel was placed on the wall beside the door. Ulquiorra paused before bringing his pale hand up, knocking lightly.

Silence followed. Blue eyes watched curiously. Suddenly there was a beep, and the door seemed to slide open. Aizen stood on the other side, having changed into casual trousers, and a white dress shirt with a book in hand. Brown eyes watched the two men, a pleasant expression appearing on his face, "Ah, thank you Ulquiorra." He stepped aside, creating room for one to enter.

The pale man bowed in respect, before taking a step to the left, making way for Grimmjow. Sighing, the blue haired man walked into the room. His eyes took in the unfamiliar surroundings as Aizen relayed new instructions to Ulquiorra for the night.

It was a study, and was surprisingly simple. It had a small desk in a corner, accompanied with a big leather chair. A book shelve ran along the entire length of the right wall. Grimmjow walked forward, the left hand side had another seamless door with no handle. Blue eyes noticed the little black panel. But his eyes shifted again to the centre of the room, staring at the large fireplace, currently lit and warming the room quite nicely. It had another leather chair placed in front of it, a soft blanket thrown over its arm. Blue eyes gazed at the lush maroon carpet beneath his shoes.

"By all means, please have a seat."

Grimmjow glanced back, Ulquiorra was long gone, the door once again sealed, leaving him trapped. Aizen stood by the desk, his arms crossed, and the book carefully put down. Those intense brown eyes were fixed on Grimmjow, unnerving the man. He brought his eyes back to the chair in front of the fire. The blue haired man snorted, kicking off his shoes, he chose to seat himself comfortably on the floor facing the fire, watching the rise and fall of flames. He never did listen to orders properly.

Due to the carpet, Grimmjow could barely make out the sound of footsteps as Aizen made his way forward, choosing to sit on the chair next to him. The two sat in silence watching, neither saying a word. Grimmjow waited for the man next to him to move, to say something, anything. Nothing happened. His shoulders relaxed by an inch. Blue eyes glowed from the light of the flames, his thoughts occupying his attention. They wandered, from his current situation, to his life in prison, back to his days in college, and his time spent working in this strange mafia group.

"Why did you kill Di Roy?" Grimmjow hadn't realised he was speaking till halfway through the sentence. He glanced back up. Waiting for a reply.

Aizen seemed genuinely surprised at the question. He eased back into the chair, stretching his legs, crossing them at the ankles, thinking over the question. Brown eyes turned to the blue haired man, a remorseful tone, "Was he your friend?"

Grimmjow flinched, such a small word but it implied so much. He starred at his hands, it was a tricky question, he called very few people his friends. But Di Roy was different, he was a kid who had struggled and strived for something, keeping his eye on the future. And Grimmjow had acknowledged that, he had acknowledged Di Roy. So maybe yes, yes he did think of the punk as a friend. Sighing, he pushed his head back, hardened blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, "Whatever he was, he didn't deserve to die."

Maybe it was the weariness inside Grimmjow that held him still, even as Aizen shifted from his seat, sinking to the floor beside him. Fingers stroked his hair, almost as though he was being soothed. A warm breath was on his neck, lips pressed against the shell of his ear, "Such strong loyalties you have."

Anger bubbled inside the blue haired man, "Not like you know what that feels like."

He was shoved back, hitting the floor hard. Grimmjow groaned, annoyed at being manhandled like that. A weight settled on him, Aizen was so _close,_ above him, whispering, "I know more than you think Grimmjow. I know _everything_." Lips moved gently from his ear, to his cheek moving up his forehead. Aizen took a deep breath and inhaled, "Did you cry over him?" Grimmjow turned his head away, starring at the flames intensely. "Do you want revenge?" The words were cruel and brutal. The pain of losing a friend left one so defeated, and desperate. It drove one to do dangerous things. They both knew that.

Fingers gripped his chin forcing Grimmjow's face to Aizen, the dark hair man was silent. His face unreadable, till he spoke softly, "I can help you."

Blue eyes widened. The only person Grimmjow wanted revenge on was him, he had issued Di Roy's death warrant. _And Nel's_, a voice at the back of his mind reminded him. He growled, "You fucking killed him, so I hope you mean you'll let me put your sorry ass six feet under."

The weight pressed down onto the blue haired man, the warm breath back on his ear, "I play no part in what happens between my subordinates dear Grimmjow. I may not have killed him," He felt teeth graze his skin as the lips travelled to the side of his face, "but for you, I can find the killer. I told you, I know everything." Lips against his cheek curved slowly, forming a smile. A wicked and cruel smile, "And knowledge is power."

Blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Why help me?"

A chuckle escaped Aizen's lips, "Not for free. I certainly don't extend my help without something in return."

Grimmjow grunted, not quite trusting his tongue to behave. He knew this was a dangerous line he was stuck on, he knew deals made with the devil never turned out well. But even if there was a small chance of finding more about Di Roys death, Grimmjow could entertain the thought. He turned to face Aizen, who was waiting, for him to bite the bait, "What do you have in mind?"

The man above did not answer, simply sliding his hand downwards. Past Grimmjow's chest, down his stomach, dipping underneath the band of his jeans, and boxers. Blue eyes widened, involuntarily trembling at the warmth caused by the tight grip. A hushed voice in his ear, mimicking the nature of a lover, "_You_."

Grimmjow's breath quickened as the fingers began to move. This was wrong. "I aint a chick you confused fucker." His voice was surprisingly stable, while his mind was over whelmed. His tried to push the man above him. It wasn't worth it, he would rather be ignorant than be touched so _intimately_ by this man. He would find about Di Roy's death another way, hell, he knew more than a few idiots who could never keep their mouth shut. But, it seemed Aizen was a lot stronger than he looked, that lean frame was incredibly deceptive, he was not fazed by Grimmjow's rough shoves.

"Of course you aren't." Fingers moved, and a hiss escaped the blue haired mans lips, his eyes clenched shut. That was foul play. It had been so long since he had been touched like that, so long since he had made love. Made love to _her_. Almost as if reading his thoughts, Aizen spoke, "Do you have any answers Grimmjow? Seems you leave all your friends to die, be it Di Roy or poor little Nel."

Rage burned inside Grimmjow, blue eyes blazed, a snarl tearing through his throat. With a new found strength, he gripped Aizen's shirt, and heaved, slamming the other man to the ground. Positions reversed. How _dare_ he?! How dare he speak of Nel like that? Shit! He _knew_, he knew the answer Grimmjow had spent two years agonising over, and there he was, mocking Grimmjow like they were discussing the fucking weather! He leant forward, noses touching, venom dripping from his hoarse voice "Which mother fucker did it?" He pulled Aizen forward and slammed him back down, roaring, "_Who_?"

Aizen's eyes darkened with unconcealed pleasure, the man on top of him was like animal. From the time he had been told of the beatings Di Roy had received from this man, or the rebellious eyes that constantly burned, Grimmjow demanded the attention of those who surrounded him. And it was attention Aizen wanted to give him, and so much _more_. He lifted his hands, fisting them in soft blue hair.

The only problem was Grimmjow's unwavering principles, he was not a man to be swayed by lesser deals, Aizen had learnt that a long time, so he had waited, waited till he had the control, till he could make an offer Grimmjow could not refuse. Watching those eyes, he knew he had won, and it would be so much satisfying if the blue haired man was willing. He would the tame the beast, till he was nothing more than a purring cat.

Harshly tugging the hair, Aizen brought their lips inches apart, their breaths blending. He whispered, "I will tell you everything, but you know what I want in return."

Blue eyes narrowed, his head filled with images of _her_. Her laugh, her smile, and the way she filled with him with warmth. But the images shifted, her screaming for help, screaming for him. An incredible sorrow gripped Grimmjow, smothering him. He knew there was no turning back from this point, but he didn't care, he had made his decision, crashing their lips together.

There was nothing affectionate about the way the two men kissed. It was physical, rough and vicious. Teeth crashing, the heat burning their tongues, no one was thinking, just following instincts. Aizen's hands untangled themselves from Grimmjow's hair, sliding down his back, dipping underneath his shirt, pulling it up. Both men broke apart, saliva dripping from the blue haired man's lips. His white shirt was quickly pulled over and tossed aside.

Aizen sat up, grabbing Grimmjow's thighs, his hands sliding higher, and roughly squeezing the soft flesh underneath the jeans. He kissed the blue haired mans chest, and lifted his head to bite the others shoulder, breathing in that intoxicating scent. He felt fingers undo the buttons of his own shirt. Oh yes, having Grimmjow willing was _much_ better. He pushed the younger man back onto the floor, looming over him.

Brown eyes took in the man below him, the harsh rise and fall of that toned chest, an arm thrown over his eyes, and the faint pink hue that had spilled onto his cheeks, running up to his ears. The image made the blood rush within Aizen. Leaning forward, he kissed the chest that was now covered with a thin layer of sweat. He slid down, running his tongue along the length of the scar on the blue haired man's stomach.

Grimmjow grunted, not knowing how sensitive his injured skin was, it quickly transformed into a groan when a wet muscle dipped into his navel. His nerves were on fire. He was burning up from the inside. The button of his jeans were undone, nails digging into his hips as it was pulled down alongside his boxers. A heard a soft laugh was heard, "Not a natural blue, such a pity."

Not angry enough to retaliate, Grimmjow lay there, waiting. Suddenly, fingers were pressing against his lips, lifting his arm, he saw Aizen had completely undressed.

Aizen pressed his fingers past the moist lips, now pushing them against the clenched teeth. He smiled, "Now Grimmjow," he scolded, leaning forward, rubbing their hardened lengths roughly against each other, earning a hiss, "If you want pain, you only need to ask."

Blue eyes widened at the firm grip between his legs, he instantly opened his mouth, letting out sound that couldn't possibly be him. He allowed the entry of two fingers, wrapping his tongue around them, trying to satisfy the man above him. Grimmjow closed his eyes, he couldn't believe he had been reduced to some sort of whore by just a few touches. It was disgusting.

Wet fingers were pulled out of his mouth, a thin trail of saliva still connected to Grimmjow's lips. They were pressed against his skin as they began to move, down his chin, his neck. Lower, and lower, leaving a path of moisture, sliding past his chest, down to his thighs, traces circles. The slid back up to the base of the blue haired man's hardened length.

A whine was heard, one which Grimmjow would never admit was him. The fingers were teasing him, sliding underneath his balls, applying pressure. "Look at me." Aizen's voice was slightly out of breath, and blue eyes obeyed, keeping themselves fixed at the man. A finger slipped _inside_, and Grimmjow flinched at the uncomfortable feeling, that was meant for things to go out, not the other way round. A second finger joined the first, causing a hiss to escape Grimmjow's lips.

He gripped the Aizen's shoulders, digging his nails into skin as the fingers were pulled out, and pushed back in, forming a rough rhythm. Lips attached themselves to his neck, working their way up, teeth gnawed Grimmjow's bottoms lip, pulling it forcefully. He felt a hand at the back of his knee, pushing it up, towards his own chest.

The fingers pressed something, and Grimmjow widened his eyes. A strangled moan was heard, throaty and raw. Oh _god_. He burned from shame. The finger pulled out, leaving him feeling empty. Aizen stared at him, the dark haired man's lips brushed against the raised thigh, a loving gesture, before he roughly pushed himself inside Grimmjow.

The blue haired man's mouth hung open. It was too much, the feeling of something stretching him. He dropped his hands to the carpet, clenching them tightly. Aizen hit that spot again, the one that made him arch, crushing their chests together, slicked with his fresh cum. He felt a breath in his ear, the voice rough, "Wider Grimmjow, spread your legs." And spread he did, allowing the other man to drive in deeper, and harder, curling his toes. It was something Grimmjow had never felt before, he had always worked during sex, never received like this. He felt himself hardened as Aizen hit that spot again, and _again_.

That greedy tongue was back, licking up the tears on his cheeks. Grimmjow couldn't even tell when he'd started crying, or why. Partly due to the pain flaring up his back, and partly because he knew at the back of his mind he was betraying Nel in the worst way possible.

"_Don't_ think about her." Aizen was furious, slamming into him roughly hitting the spot that made him blind. And for a second, he forgot.

Possessed by lust and need, Grimmjow roared for more, harder, _rougher_, so that he couldn't think. Think about the man who was defiling him like this. The sounds of skin echoed through the small study. Both men consumed by desire. Aizen moved faster, and Grimmjow responded with each thrust, with each push.

He didn't even know he was capable of creating half the sounds coming out of his mouth. Somewhere along the way he had been turned to his hands and knees, facing the fire, burning from the inside and out. Fingers had been shoved into his mouth, moving in sync with Aizen's thrusts. A hand had wrapped itself around Grimmjow's stiff erection, pumping him. Aizen's knee's pushing trembling thighs further apart, creating more room to drive in deeper.

It was too much. A particular rough tug on his cock, and Aizen hitting that spot inside had the blue haired man screaming out loud, splattering all over the awaiting hand, and the carpet below. Aizen picked up his pace, taking his fingers out of Grimmjows mouth, to tug blue hair back. He hissed into the man's ear, "Say my name." He ordered.

Grimmjow grunted at the rough treatment, his voice still hoarse from the screaming, a violent thrust and he forehead being pressed to the floor, "A-ngh-_Aizen_."

That was all it took for the dark haired man to throw his head back, and mark himself inside Grimmjow. He took a minute to gain his breath, before pulling out, reaching up to smooth his hair. He watched the man below him collapse from exhaustion. His pale skin glowing as the fire highlighted the sweat sliding across his skin. Brown eyes were delighted as they saw the sticky liquid beginning to trail down shivering thighs.

Yes, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was indeed a beast. And he was looking forward to every minute spent taming it. Today he had cornered the blue haired man for a small taste, but he knew the others pride was still intact. And that was, in truth, Grimmjow's essence. Pride is what made the man. Aizen's eyes burned with desire, to truly make Grimmjow _obey_, he would need to crack that pride, chip and chip at it till it came tumbling down.

Looking back, Aizen pulled the blanket that had been draped over the leather chair, returning his attention to the other man. He eased himself down next to Grimmjow, gently stroking blue hair. He rested his head onto the floor, watching the blue haired man next to him. The steady rise and fall of that cream chest.

Minutes passed before Aizen pulled the figure close to him, laying the Grimmjow's head on his left arm, draping his right over Grimmjow's waist, trapping the man. He covered them both with the soft blanket. Brown eyes stared silently as the other struggled to stay awake, "Sleep." He ordered, kissing the blue haired man's forehead, a groan was his reply. And Aizen hoped Grimmjow would be consumed by thoughts of this night. For a long time to come.

Grimmjow was cold, too cold. He sensed shuffling around him, and tried to move into a less painful position. He hoped there wouldn't be a round two anytime soon. He felt himself being pulled, the carpet brushing against his skin. Fingers placed themselves in his hair, they seemed to be moving in a soothing gesture, but Grimmjow felt repulsed. It was warm now though, too warm, he could feel the other man's body heat. Some words were spoken, and a pressure on his forehead, Grimmjow tried to tell the pervert to back off, but it came out in more of a grunt than a sentence. The blue haired man's final thought was a question. Just what had he agreed to?


	9. A show of faith

**A/N: **In case any of you were wondering if I was dead. I'm not. I never meant to leave this story for so long, but real life can be so hectic sometimes. I started going over some of my notes for it, and read your reviews.

So for everyone who took the time to review and praised this story: this is for you! Thank you so much.

**Prison Break  
>Chapter 9<strong>

Pain. It flittered through Grimmjow's mind along with a fucking headache. An ache ran down his back. His cheek pressed against the lush carpet lying on his stomach. He gently tested his muscles discovering a sore and uncomfortable feeling in his thighs.

Groaning, he rotated his shoulders trying to soothe the muscles. Grimmjow propped himself up on his elbows. He flinched when his body protested the movement. Blue eyes flickered open. Deep breaths. That's what Grimmjow needed. He lifted himself onto his knees, causing the blanket that covered him to fall. Oh God did that hurt.

He focused on the chair in front of him. Slowly he gripped the arm rest and hauled himself onto his feet. A hiss escaped Grimmjow's lips. He massaged the scar skin on his stomach hoping to ease the pain.

What had he done?

Grimmjow stared at the ashes scattered in the fireplace. His mind still saw the flames from yesterday. He shifted from one foot to another trying to ease the itchiness between his thighs. He took in the dry, cracked substance splattered across his stomach and thighs.

"Good morning."

_Fuck._

He didn't turn around, because now was not the time for this.

"Grimmjow." Aizen scolded, clearly amused. "What did my fireplace ever do to you?"

He glared over his shoulder. Not daring to move his body any more than necessary. "Fuck you."

"Was last night not enough?" Eyes were dancing with amusement.

Aizen stood against the second door Grimmjow had seen last night. He caught a glimpse of a large bed - glad to know he got left with the goddamn floor – the rest was blocked by the older man's figure. Dressed in silk pajamas and a soft robe. Aizen's hair was wet and Grimmjow hated how refreshed he looked.

"Would you like to freshen up?"Aizen stepped aside, gesturing to the room behind him.

"No thanks." He narrowed his eyes and glanced around. "Where are my clothes?"

"I sent them to be washed. I've prepared a new set for you." Aizen walked over to the small table picking up his mobile. "After, you shower of course."

"Just give me some clothes and I'll leave. I've already stayed here long enough."

"Not one to stay for the morning after I see. Why Grimmjow, you must have left the ladies weeping."

Deep breath. Bring in the anger. It wasn't like Aizen actually gave a shit. "Look, I-"

"No." His voice cold and commanding. "I do believe we made an agreement yesterday. If you wish to honour that it, go freshen up. Otherwise I will withdraw my offer of helping you."

Grimmjow curled his lip up in disgust. Leave it to Aizen to make animalistic fucking sound like discussing business strategies. He took a deep breath, ignoring the pain as he walked past the man. This was not a fight he could win just yet. He closed the bedroom door with a little more force than necessary.

It was like stepping deeper into the man's presence. The traditional furniture was of rich colouring. The walls were dark but not suffocating. Even the air held a crisp feel, like Aizen himself was breathing down your neck. Grimmjow hated it. He moved to what he assumed would be the en-suite. The same expensive and extravagant taste was inside the bathroom.

Slipping into the shower Grimmjow made sure he scrubbed away the dried substances. The hot water soothed his muscles and he quickly ran a critical eye over his body. He shifted, shampooing his hair.

Since when did Aizen fuck guys? Not that he was surprised; the guy had always been a little too uptight. Was this going to be a regular occurrence? Shit. Just thinking about it brought on an urge of scratching. There was no way in hell he'd be able to keep this up without trying to burn his skin. Grimmjow closed his eyes. All he needed was a name. The name of the mother-fucker that got to her. This was his last shot.

Except it mean being Aizen's little bitch.

_Woof_.

Grimmjow needed to wait. Once he got the name, he would tie up this one last loose end – and run. But this time he would drop off the grid permanently.

Switching off the water, Grimmjow stepped out of the big cubicle. He grabbed a clean towel from the shelf. As tempting as it was to make a mess, he was pretty sure he'd pay for it later. After drying off, he wrapped a soft towel around his waist. Grimmjow walked back into the bedroom, and flinched. A uniform was lying on the bed. The one that had been specially designed when Grimmjow had reached the single digit ranks. A sign of finally joining the inner circle. He looked away and the grip on the towel turned his knuckles white. He never thought he'd be seeing those again.

It seemed Aizen had a sense of humour.

He walked towards the bed trying to swallow the bitterness in his throat. Grimmjow stared at the white hakama and its matching black obi. Next to it was a crisp white jacket with black lining on the cuffs at the elbows and on the inside. The mixture of Japanese and Western style gave a small insight into the mystery that was Aizen. The man had overseen all uniforms and Grimmjow couldn't help but wonder why they still had his. They never wore them all the time, only for special or important meetings. So where was he going to go now?

Sighing, he dropped the towel and picked up the briefs. Grimmjow methodically put each piece of clothing on, finishing with the white jacket. He looked down at his bare stomach. Back then he'd grin at every person that stared. He'd work for hours for those stares. But now? Now every person would see each mark across his stomach.

The marks of submission.

Grimmjow was starving and he wasn't getting any breakfast standing around. He entered the study to find Aizen seated by his desk drinking coffee. He put down the newspaper and waved at Grimmjow to sit down. "You look much better. Glad to see the uniform still fits."

"Well that makes one of us. Can I leave?"

"Sit."

A plate of eggs and toast pushed towards him. Well wasn't today just full of surprises. "I'm not hungry."

"Not everything has to be a fight, Grimmjow." Aizen narrowed his eyes. "Stop being difficult."

Reluctantly a seat was pulled out. A toast picked up and bit into. Grimmjow made sure he chewed louder than normal.

"How close are you with your friend – Ichigo, wasn't it? He was the one who helped you out that night." The words were casual but Grimmjow understood the silent question.

"He doesn't know anything about you. I've kept my fucking mouth shut." He could feel that gaze examining his face. "Why don't you ask the bastard who knew about - "

"Grimmjow."

"Something tells me either way is not going to end well for me."

Aizen shifted in his seat, bringing his hand up so that he could rest his chin on top of it. Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "Trust me when I say, keeping silent will bear far worse consequences."

Grimmjow clenched his jaw and stared right back. He'd already slept with the enemy. Not like things could get any worse.

"Arruruerie. I told Ichigo about Arruruerie and his plans on distributing the Glotoneria drug."

Aizen regarded him for a moment, suddenly a shrewd smile stretched across his face. He slid back in his seat and watched Grimmjow with interest. "How clever. You and Nelliel were in charge of overseeing the operation that day. You knew what would happen if the police showed up."

Which was precisely why he'd chosen Arruruerie's name to pass onto Ichigo that night. The guy was a cold-blood killer who'd developed some sort of recreational hallucinatory drug. He'd perfected the formula but needed to make sure it would break into the streets and sell well. That's where Aizen-the-fucking-douche-bag came in. He had all the connections to make the drug a success. But not someone who trusted easily. Grimmjow and Nel realised it was perfect. The police show up while they were buying a small amount for testing and arrest Arruruerie's sorry ass. That would raise all kind of red flags. Aizen wouldn't even think to deal with the man again. It was fucking faultless because Grimmjow and Nel end up in police custody with Ichigo. Out of Aizen's grasp. All the while Aizen would think it was Arruruerie who had screwed up.

Except it hadn't gone to plan, someone had figured it out. Someone had known that Grimmjow had tattled. That's why they'd gone after Nel and hurt her. She should have left maybe ten minutes after him. Tailing to make sure no one had followed. They were supposed to meet up at the club where the transaction was taking place. But Grimmjow had gotten a bad feeling when she was a no show. It got worse after she hadn't turned up when the police barged in.

No. Grimmjow had found Nel when he retraced her steps. Bitterness rose in his throat. It had been disgusting even for the things he'd seen. He couldn't describe her, not without wanting to cause damage himself. Fuck. Someone had bashed Nel's head in so hard there a cut right across the centre of her skull. And the blood – _shit_ – the blood that was on her face.

"So who was it?" He ground out the words as he looked at clenched hands. "Did they get a pansy ass reward? Did they kiss your feet and beg for praise. Is that how it fucking worked?"

Grimmjow had been so immersed in his thoughts; he hadn't seen the other man move. Slender fingers grabbed his throat and pressed against his skin. His air supply cut off. "You would do well to hold your tongue. I may be treating you with a little compassion, but do not think I will allow your rebellious behaviour in front of my men. You seem to have forgotten how to take my orders Grimmjow."

Blue eyes burned with anger as he looked at Aizen. He choked the words out as best as he could. "I do-n't know. I thoug-ht I did pret-ty well last nig-ht."

"You certainly were." The tip of Aizen's lips curled. The grip shifted as fingers moved into Grimmjow's hair. A throaty groan came from the blue haired man as he took a deep breath and tried to jerk his head away. He wasn't a fucking house cat. "But the others are expecting some form of public punishment, you understand."

Just like that he moved away. Grimmjow clenched and unclenched his fists to keep from rubbing his neck or hair. Punishment? More like free reign to corner him every chance they got. Tensions always ran high between those in the single digit ranks. Each tough guy trying to prove they're better than the other. "What kind of punishment are we talking about?"

"It doesn't matter. You will take it as a show of faith to my men."

Is that what it is? A show for all those little cowards to see Grimmjow get put in place, of course they'd love that. Little fuckers.

He jerked out of his seat and glared. "Fuck off. I may be listening to your sorry orders but that don't mean I have to make it a rule."

"Always the fighter." Aizen took a step forward but Grimmjow held his ground. Fingers brushed against the skin of his scar. "The other option is death. I am trying to help you by showing the others you can take orders."

"Like that's going to work." Grimmjow narrowed his gaze. "Let me tell you something about how things work. If I sit and take it like a little bitch they're going to hit one time too many."

"Perhaps you did not hear me Grimmjow." Aizen regarded him for a moment. His fingers drifting up towards the collar bone. "You are not going to die." His lips curved upward as though he was enjoying a private joke. "I said you are going to show them how well you take orders. _My_ orders. You will stay down as long as I wish."

In an instant, the warmth from the fingers was gone. Grimmjow stared as Aizen walked back to his desk. What exactly was he supposed to do now?

"You may leave. You'll be summoned from your quarters when it's time so don't be late."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The pickup came four hours after he'd been dropped at his new quarters. They weren't in the residence lodge at the back of the estate where everyone else stayed. No, his new room was suspiciously in the main manor. The room was simple enough. It had a balcony that overlooked onto Aizen's personal inner garden. The message was clear. He was stuck in the middle of the maze with no way out. Grimmjow could almost hear the cruel whisper; _a pretty view for my special guest_.

The room was simple enough, allowing for a luxury bed and basic furniture. It even had lush carpets and paintings on the otherwise bare walls. Grimmjow wasn't surprised to notice there wasn't a phone or laptop. He'd been going crazy with boredom when there was a knock on the door. He set his face to a snarl as he pulled it open, expecting Ulquiorra.

It wasn't.

Blue-grey eyes stared at him. For the first time, Grimmjow felt a sudden sense of nostalgia.

"Starrk?"

"Only you would get me dumped with extra work."

Grimmjow surprised himself with his laugh. He never thought it would feel this good to see anyone from this shithole.

Starrk had changed a little since he had seen him last. He looked older, tired. His hair was longer, the tips touching his shoulders. Starrk had gotten rid of that awful stubble that used to run down his jaw. He trimmed his beard into a small goatee instead. He was also wearing his official uniform but Grimmjow didn't mind. Starrk was the least threatening person around – despite holding the highest single rank. And he was the only one Grimmjow trusted.

"I'm almost relieved you're still kicking." Starrk reached forward and clamped his hand onto Grimmjow's shoulder. The closest either one came to showing affection.

"Never thought I'd be glad to see your sorry face." Grimmjow slapped his arms around the other for a rough hug. He pulled back after a minute. "Even if you are leading me to the shit storm."

Starrk smiled apologetically. "When I heard you were back, I had thought they'd –"

"Don't sweat it. Aizen has made a deal that involves me staying alive."

Starrk frowned, involuntarily glancing at the markings across his stomach. Grimmjow stiffened and pushed passed. They made their way towards the outer buildings. The ones usually left for training or group meetings. Starrk kept staring and it was starting to become a little uncomfortable. He looked back. "Got something to say?"

"It seems Aizen's been making a lot of deals recently." Starrk shrugged. "I'd be careful. After the stunt you pulled, it doesn't sound like him to keep you alive for so long."

Grimmjow laughed dryly. "Trust me. We got a special arrangement."

Starrk led them to the bunker. The massive auditorium usually used for anyone that wanted to sort out arguments. Of course, without getting Aizen or the one digit's involved. The fights usually ended bloody, and if someone died? No one batted an eyelash. Starrk gripped the handle and looked at Grimmjow. "Good luck."

The large door was pulled aside.

It was packed. Rows of familiar and not-so-familiar faces staring back at him. Hell did they all look pissed. Grimmjow walked down the path that was left clear for him with his held high. Seems like everyone was waiting to get one back for all the times he'd screw them over. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

Aizen was standing at the end of the room, with his trusty sidekicks on both sides. Gin still looked the same – like you couldn't trust him. And Tousen looked like he didn't want to be here at all. Grimmjow caught Aizen's gaze and couldn't look away from the blank expression. It didn't make him feel any better. He stopped a few before the three leaders where a wide berth was left open. Gin motioned for him to move to the side.

Aizen stepped forward and addressed the crowd. "As everyone is aware we have seen the return of your co-worker. Many of you remember Grimmjow in his single digit rank."

"He ain't a single digit anymore! He's a traitor!" Someone shouted from the back. Grimmjow tried not to wince, that was a bad move. Gin swept his eyes over the crowd, no doubt cataloguing it for later on.

"That is also true. I know many feel betrayed by his actions. But look," Aizen smiled in a harmless manner, gesturing to Grimmjow. "He returned here, knowing the consequences."

Grimmjow tried to swallow the surprise. Returned. Is that the bullshit that's being fed to everyone? Shit, was that why that Ulquiorra was getting all up in his face? They all thought he was back for his old job? Then the lot of them were fucking morons. His eyes scanned the crowd. They were getting antsy, fists clenching, feet moving.

"I know that many of you will still question his loyalty. But you have nothing to concern yourself over. He is loyal to me. Isn't that right, Grimmjow?"

Now being the centre of everyone's renewed anger, he jerked his head in a quick nod. "I'm here, aren't I?"

He was given a look.

"I'm here on your orders, _sir_."

Aizen smiled and addressed the crowd. "And as proof of this, I called you all here to here to witness Grimmjow's punishment." Eager whispers exchanged and excitement buzzed through the hall. No one had expected this. "Not only that but I call to _you_, my loyal employee's, to test his loyalty once and for all."

Shocked silence. Grimmjow was pushed forward as Aizen stepped back.

"By my orders Grimmjow will tolerate your retribution for his selfish actions."

There was a long pause. A figure stepped in front of Grimmjow, and he bit back a snarl. Of course it'd be Ulquiorra. A pale fist caught his jaw. He grunted. Another slammed into his stomach, pounding into his scar. Grimmjow hissed but stayed standing. When a foot slammed into his knees, he went down.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra. I do not wish to cut short your time but we have a lot of people waiting."

The pale man slid back into the crowd.

"Grimmjow, resume your position."

He took a deep breath. Pulling himself back up, he dusted off his knees.

"How's it going blue boy?"

Grimmjow's body jerked. He glared at Apacci and Franceska, both standing in their crisp white uniforms. No _fucking_ way. She had been tagging him all those weeks ago. His eyes narrowed and promised himself he'd get back at the bitch. For now he could only endure as they came at him together. Two swift kicks to his ribs. Nails scratched his cheek. A mean right hook to his jaw. Then Azien's voice cut through once again, calling on the next person. And so it continued. Grimmjow drifted through the pain, trying to keep his anger in control. Once in a while a familiar face would pop in, looking a little hesitant, but they would hit once and make it count. Grimmjow knew why. Aizen was watching, and mercy wasn't on the agenda today. They were all trapped in the sick, twisted game of submission. But he memorised the faces of all those that came at him with real vengeance. The fuckers would pay. Grimmjow would show them he wasn't their bitch. He grunted as he was knocked to the floor.

He lay there in a haze of torment, his muscles throbbing under the strain.

"Grimmjow, resume your position."

_Fuck._ He glanced back at Aizen, who was lounging in comfortable chair. Fury burned in his veins, but he clenched his eyes shut. He knew this was a test. Grimmjow wasn't about to give up his one shot to find Nel's killer. He'd fucking endure.

Waiting for his hands to stop shaking, he pulled his knees under him and pushed up from the floor. Slowly, he balanced his weight on aching legs. Grimmjow took deep breaths. He lifted his eyes back up.

"Well aren't you a pretty sight"

Well if things couldn't get any worse. Luppi stepped forward. Blue eyes widened when they took in the other's uniform. White sleeves cloaked his hands. In fact the white hakama covered his entire torso but there were two gaps that bared his sides and hips. He spotted the black marking on Luppi's right hip but couldn't make it out. Catching his stare, Luppi sneered.

"Are you checking me out?" He slammed his foot into the centre of Grimmjow's chest. An arm hooked around Grimmjow's leg and he was thrown to the floor. Luppi stood above him. "_Sorry_ but you're not my type."

Grimmjow swore. His back flared up while his lungs burned. But it seemed Luppi wasn't finished.

"Let me show you why you are _nothing_ next to me." He pulled the cloth on his right hip lower, revealing the whole tattoo. Blue eyes widened. It was a number. The number 6. "You have no privilege here. You don't even have a rank."

When did they start _inking_ themselves? Aizen had lost his fucking mind, he was insane. This was bat-shit crazy. Grimmjow watched the dangerous glint grow in Luppi's eyes. This was bad.

"Grimmjow, fighting stance please." Aizen's voice cut through both of them.

He reacted without thinking about the pain. His movements were slow but he dodged the knife that swung at his throat. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. Watching the hand that gripped the blade, he shifted his feet apart. He muscles throbbed but he allowed his anger to cut through the pain. He didn't need to endure, and it was about fucking time he released some his rage.

"Luppi, I do believe I requested no weapons be brought to this meeting." Aizen's words were of a disappointed father, but his tone was deadly. "There are consequences to disobedience. Grimmjow, make him yield."

Grimmjow stayed still. He might be at disadvantage but he knew Luppi depended on speed and reflexes. He kept his eyes pinned on Luppi, watching for any movements, anticipating an attack. Sure enough he saw the twitch in the other's arm. Groaning, he dropped to the floor and avoided the blade. Ignoring the strain on his lower back, he surged forward and slammed into Luppi's stomach. Taking them both straight to the floor.

The grappled with each other. Grimmjow felt intense pain flare in his arm. _Shit_. It had been slashed . An elbow slammed against his forehead. He blinked, trying to regain focus. Luppi out from underneath but was pulled back. Grimmjow hissed but locked his arms the fucker's neck. He locked his legs around Luppi's torso. And held.

Luppi thrashed in the hold. Soon the lack of air slowed his movements. Grimmjow waited for him to drop the knife. Once it clattered to the floor, he snatched it and pulled himself up. He swung hit foot down once against the fuckers back. Then again on his arm. Luppi lay on the floor. Limbs sprawled like a rag doll.

Grimmjow was panting. His body fuelled by adrenaline. He glanced back at everyone in the hall. His smile turned vicious. He wasn't _anybody's_ bitch. His eyes pinned themselves to each and every one who had attacked. He promised them his own retribution.

"Finish him."

He jerked and turned to Aizen. The man hardly looked frazzled, as though he knew what the outcome had been from the beginning. And Grimmjow had a sneaking suspicion that part of that might be true. Nothing escaped Aizen's calculations.

"I said finish him. I will not repeat myself a third time."

He frowned, staring down at the unconscious figure. Only now did he remember how young the other boy was. He fingers shook from the strain of his grip. He was losing blood. He glanced at Aizen and saw a dark look. This was another test. What had he said at breakfast? _You are going to show them how well you take orders. _**_My_**_ orders._

Grimmjow bit his lip. Sure the kid was a little fucked up, but he didn't deserve to die. How much further down the rabbit hole was he going to go? He could feel the anger radiate from Aizen. If he didn't decide, he would end up dead too. Grimmjow thought of Nel and moved. Not wanting to dwell on the guilt. He slammed the blade into the back of Luppi's skull, aiming for the spine. It was a quick death. Grimmjow shut his eyes and held onto Luppi. Exhaustion bleeding into his limbs. His blood seeped into the dead boys' uniform. _Fuck_. What had he done? Nel. He pictured Nel. He wanted to focus on the hurt and anger at her death, not the shame that was burning up inside him.

Grimmjow jerked when he felt a grip under his arm. He relaxed when he realised it was Starrk. The quiet man helped him to his feet and guided him back towards Aizen, who was now addressing the crowd.

"You have learnt two things today. Disobedience will always be punished. Luppi was arrogant and reckless, a disrespect to his rank. Nevertheless, Grimmjow has proven himself loyal to me." Brown eyes settled on Grimmjow, a slow smile spread across Aizen's face. This was going to be bad. "And I reward those who are loyal. Which is why I restore Grimmjow to his position of the sixth rank."

Grimmjow's stomach dropped. He narrowed his eyes but kept them to the floor. He should have known this had been Aizen's ploy from the start. He had thrown out stories of Grimmjow returning, no doubt to piss Luppi off. He knew Luppi wouldn't miss an opportunity to one up Grimmjow. And the fact he had won, despite taking the beating of his life, reinforced his authority with any thug hoping for a second round. Aizen had planned this whole thing.

Something ugly curled inside Grimmjow. His focus fading in and out as he gripped the wound on his arm. The adrenaline had started to fade. Aches beginning to flare throughout his body.

"You are all dismissed."

Aizen moved through the crowd. Starrk pulled Grimmjow along, helping him to steady his steps, but not carrying his weight. Instead of making their way back to the main buildings, they moved towards the small medical hall. Thank fuck. They entered the facility and entered into what seemed a replica of a hospital room.

Aizen turned back to look at Grimmjow. He felt the older man's eyes take in every mark, scratch and bruise. No doubt cataloguing it for later. A quick motion had Starrk removing Grimmjow's jacket. He flinched at the pain that laced through his shoulders. His bullet scar was burning. A flick of a finger had Grimmjow moving so Aizen could inspect his back. He kept his eyes on Starrk, and found some comfort there. He could get through this. Whatever test this had been, he had passed.

Grimmjow jumped forward when he felt a finger run across his back. It stilled at his movement. Taking a deep breath, he moved back. The finger moved again. It glided across his shoulders, down the ridges of his spine. He shivered. There wasn't any pressure, nothing to add more pain. It slid to the small of his back and then to spot over his right hip.

"It seems this is the only place you haven't sustained an injury." Aizen traced a small circle there. "Your performance was truly remarkable Grimmjow."

"Go fuck yourself. I didn't have a choice."

A fist slammed into his kidneys. He toppled to the floor, and it hurt too much to move. His limbs not responding. Instead he glared up at Aizen, who turned to Starrk.

Starrk came forward and helped Grimmjow up from the floor. There were red splotches on the white marble. He glanced at his arm, it looked pretty bad. Starrk guided him to the bed, laying him on his stomach. Grimmjow pulled his head to the side and watched Aizen take a seat across him. They stared at each other. A mask appeared in front of Grimmjow's face. He looked up at Starrk.

"Anaesthetic, so we can treat your wounds."

He took three long breaths before it was pulled away. He was told to count to twenty-five.

_One. Two. Three._

Grimmjow blinked as his arm was shifted. He felt drained. His eyes felt heavy and he strained to keep them open. His body felt better, he couldn't feel the strain in his muscles. He heard the murmur of voices. Aizen was talking to someone. It wasn't Starrk. That was weird, where had he gone?

_Nine. Ten. Eleven._

There was wetness at his back. He didn't flinch, too tired to move. His back felt heavy and his limbs were pulling him down to the mattress. Gloved hands traced the same spot on his right hip that Aizen had. The stranger moved efficiently, pressing into his muscle. But Grimmjow barely felt a thing.

_Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen_.

With a strain Grimmjow forced his head to turn the other direction. He took a deep breath. Black bled into the edge of his vision.

_Nineteen._He looked up. _Twenty-one_.

Gold eyes stared at him from behind white frames. But all Grimmjow could see was pink hair.

_Twenty-three_.

Blue eyes widened. Syazel smiled back at him. "Easy there."

_Twenty-four._

Fingers brushed his eyes closed, and Grimmjow struggled to reopen them. A breath against his ear. "I'm going make you feel all better, tiger. So just close your eyes and take a nice...long...nap."

_Twenty-five_.

He was out cold.


End file.
